


Coyote and Wolf

by gestaltrose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Slash, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-22
Updated: 2011-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gestaltrose/pseuds/gestaltrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a infant Sam's mother, Mary put many protections on him in hope that he would one day find the one who was the one. The one destined to complete his soul, to make him whole. She wasn't counting on demon blood being introduced into the mix, or young Dean sleeping outside his brother’s bedroom when they cast the spell.</p><p>Sam and Dean grow up, Sam leaves for college, his dad telling him that if he goes, not to bother coming back. Circumstances bring the boys back together, searching for their father, unexpectedly they find themselves operating under a curse. By day one of them is a coyote and by night the other is a wolf. They manage to hunt and survive under insane conditions. Through notes, their feelings that they had just admitted to, grow and flourish.</p><p>Eventually Bobby, Ellen, Missouri, John and the boys search for a way to save the boys and to stop someone from opening a devil's gate. The boys must face the demon that changed Sam as human in order for the curse... for its blood was indeed a curse, to be broken. There is only one problem... the demon is also aware of this. (storyline taken from LadyHawk and reworked completely)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coyote and Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> AU but it hits on canon in season one then beats it up and throws it out the window.  
> Written for spn j2 big bang community on lj my artist was angstpuppy [her art is here](http://angstpuppy.livejournal.com/161907.html)

  
**Prologue**   


_Circa_ August 2, 1983, Sam Winchester was three months old. Mary Winchester had been up for two days straight and she, Missouri Mosley and Ellen Harvelle gathered in Samuel’s bedroom. John had been working long hours at the shop and Mary had found time to prepare everything. Herbs cut from her garden were hung around the room.

Heather and motherwart for protection, also some elm to burn and some rue candles that Missouri made for the same. Savory and columbine for love, and Ellen had brought a paste to anoint Sammy with. Mary sniffed it - cinnamon and cardamon for love and lust. Raising an eyebrow at Ellen, Mary took another sniff- betony for protection, purification and love, black cohosh for courage and protection, coltsfoot for visions. Glancing at Missouri, Mary knew that was her addition because Missouri was sure that Sam was a seer as she was. There was a hint of catnip and apple blossoms for luck and friendship.

Dean had been sent to bed hours ago and as the time of Samuel’s birth hour approached the women gathered close around him. Mary knew some of what was coming, the death and destruction that would surround her boys. She would like nothing better than to take that from them, to let them lead normal, happy lives. But she had dreamed and Missouri had told her of her visions. Ellen, the goddess bless her heart, had been a rock. She was their ground, always had been. Without Ellen, Mary would still be panicked and dithering about what to do.

Mary still wasn’t sure how the three of them became friends, but the Lady blessed their friendship and now she has a chance to save her son. The spell they planned on doing would not only protect him from evil, it would lead him to his true love -his other half - because when Mary had been pregnant with Sam she had been touched by _him_ , that yellow-eyed bastard Azazel.

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“Good of you to take such good care of our son, Mary.”

Mary had never seen this man before in her life and he was putting his hand on her stomach. Looking at her like she was some prize bitch that he had bred, it gave her shivers. She was slipping her hand in her purse for her knife when his next words stopped her.

“It was nice of you to wait up for me,” he whispered and touched her stomach again before backing off, his eyes flashing yellow. Mary flashed back to the night that John had come home late and said those exact words to her as he slid into bed. They had made love, and then John had left Mary sleeping. Awakening, she had padded out to the living room only to find him asleep on the couch.

She woke him with a kiss and her blood had gone cold as he said he hadn’t wanted to bother her and had slept on the couch. No one had ever called her a slow witch. The next day she had sought out Missouri and told her what had happened. Missouri had a vision as she touched Mary’s stomach and it frightened Mary to her core. It was about her dying.

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**

Until Mary had ran into Azazel she hadn’t even been sure she was pregnant; she still had a period, there was no sickness, not like she had had with Dean. The moment that thing had touched her stomach she felt something move, _her child_ and she would be damned if she was going to let that yellow-eyed bastard have him without a fight. It had taken the three of them months of searching to come up with the demon’s name: they had used Mary’s blood and an ancient ritual that Ellen had found. Mary had cried the day Missouri told her of Sam’s problem, and it was Ellen who had come up with the solution.

Samuel had an incomplete soul, because his father (though Mary could hardly stomach to call him that) had none. So Ellen had dug through history after history and finally came across a mention of a half-souled person. The young woman had been bonded to another when she was a child and when they met, somehow her soul was healed.

So on this, the anniversary of Samuel’s birth, Mary spoke the words, Missouri made the motions and Ellen held them all together as they cast a spell of protection and love on Sam Winchester. Life and true love, soul mates and protection from evil, they cast in different forms, in different languages, hoping to confound the evil that they all knew would trail Sam until he and his soul mate could be together.

Mary sighed as the power settled on the sleeping child just as the clock chimed the quarter hour, 11:15 -the moment of Sam’s first breath. The three of them kissed Sam on the head and Mary opened the door to find Dean sleeping on the floor outside. A worried frown touched her face briefly; they hadn’t cast a circle because of the way the spell had been designed. Had she harmed her eldest while protecting her youngest? Then the worry passed. Love had been cast tonight and no harm could come from that.

Smoothing Dean’s hair, she carried him back to bed. “Sammy,” Dean murmured and Mary leaned down and kissed her son’s warm cheek.

“Sammy’s fine, love. You sleep.”

“Love Sammy, fine,” Dean murmured back in an odd copy of her words. Mary shook her head and let Dean sleep in peace.

Slipping out of his room, she walked to the front door. They had spoken of this, the three of them. They knew that they couldn’t stay together. Mary and the others knew she would be dead inside four months at the most and she needed her friends, her sisters, to be safe. They had agreed to split up, to never speak of one another again. Samuel needed protection and this way, if the demon found out what they had done, it could only come after one of them.

That her friends would do this for her, for her son, left her in tears. “Goddess bless you,” she said as she kissed Ellen’s cheeks. “May your hearth ever burn warm. I don’t know. . .” Mary started and both of the women stopped her.

“We know you would do it for us in a heartbeat. We love you,” Missouri spoke quietly in the darkness as the crickets chirped around them.

“Sisters forever,” Ellen whispered as she pulled Mary into a tight hug. Mary tried to memorize this moment because she knew they would never have another together, not in this lifetime. She heard the rumble of the Impala as it turned the corner at the end of their street. With a last hug she said goodbye to her sisters of the heart and turned to face the bright lights of John’s car. She reminded herself to throw some protections on the other love of John’s life. Feeling that the car would be both his and the boys haven for a while after she died, she knew she should do it soon.

“Was that your coven?” John asked as he stepped out of the car and Mary was in his arms before he could blink.

“Of course.” Mary’s mother had been the one to show her that the best way to hide something was out in the open. “We were so busy casting spells I almost forgot to make you dinner.”

John laughed and slapped her ass. “Food woman! What else are you good for?”

Mary threaded her arm through John’s as they walked inside. “I thought that the sex wasn’t half bad,” she quipped and then danced out of his reach as he grabbed for her. Bringing him supper that she had kept warm in the oven, she sat across from the table and watched him eat, wondering for the millionth time if she should tell him. Once again coming to the conclusion that she couldn’t, he needed to be in the moment if he was to protect Dean and Sam, and he wouldn’t, couldn’t do that if he was either worried that she was insane, or worse, decided that she was telling the truth.

Three months later she walked into Sammy’s room and found Azazel standing over Sam’s crib, dripping blood into her baby’s mouth. No! They hadn’t prepared for that. Demon blood would twist the protections all out of order and just NO! She felt herself get shoved against the wall and under her breath she started chanting, protection and love; she would keep her son safe until he could find his other half, she would.

She lay on the ceiling and looked down at her son. Feeling the life draining out of her she gave up the fight as she heard John coming down the hall. Oh how she loved this family, and with that thought Mary died.

###    
****  


Coyote and Wolf

  


  


Dean was the only one Sam would listen to as they grew up. It used to drive Dad crazy until he accepted it and just told Dean what to do. Half of the time, Dean wasn’t even sure Sam heard Dad until they would get into yet another drag out fight, which ended with him trying to make peace. He wanted to kill both of them at one time or another.

Then, Sam was gone and it was as if the color had gone out of his world. He knew Sam was just away at college but Dean also knew that his life was forever changed. He existed, following Dad from hunt to hunt. The only bright spots were when they were close enough to Stanford to check in on Sam. Dean would watch him joking, laughing, and for a while there would be color in his life again. Then it would again fade away just as quickly as it came.

Maybe he was a little too excited when he figured out that Dad had disappeared in the middle of a hunt, when he realized it was the perfect excuse to go see Sam. Maybe, but he did it anyway. The way that Sam slid back into his life, into his heart, made Dean realize just how important Sam was to him.

Then there had been the fire and Jess’s death and it made Dean wonder if Sam was ever going to be whole, even he could see that Sam was missing something, searching for something. They followed Dad’s trail until they had to go home, back to Kansas, back to where it all started. Dean hadn’t pushed as he hadn’t wanted to go, but Sam did, so they went and their lives changed forever.

Back in their motel room, after dealing with the poltergeist, and the spirit of their mom, Sam broke down and confessed that he loved Dean; he always had and he couldn’t help it if it was wrong or evil - he wanted him, more than life. Dean had been shocked, he had tried to shove all of those unnatural feelings that he had for his brother away from him. Tried to be the good son, the good brother, always giving to his family and never ever taking. But here Sam was, offering his love up to him and Dean found that he needed it; he drank it in.

Leaning in and running a hand through Sam’s shaggy hair, Dean pulled him close and then he did it. He kissed Sam and it was like the world stopped. Dean had kissed other people, girls and boys, but it was different this time. Sam moved his lips and Dean remembered to breathe; they touched tongues, hesitantly and then with more fervor. “Oh god, Sam,” Dean murmured, and what he meant was ‘oh, I love you Sam’. He barely had time for the revelation to sink in, that he did love his brother more than anything in the world, and Sam was screaming.

Dean held on to him and tried to figure out what was going on. It was the middle of the day, even if Sam had been bitten by something like a werewolf, he wouldn’t change now. Because Dean had realized that’s what Sam was doing, he was changing. Dean could hear tendons snapping and what sounded to him like bones breaking, and all Dean could do was hold on.

Then as quickly as it started, it was over. Dean became aware of someone pounding on the door. He gently tucked Sam into bed and then went to check on the door. It was the motel manager. “There was screaming.”

“I’m sorry, I get night terrors sometimes,” Dean said, thinking fast. “I’m told I scream in my sleep. Here. . .” He slipped the man a fifty. “I really am sorry.”

The man tried to see around him, but Dean effectively blocked his view of the bed. “Someone said it sounded like a dog. No dogs allowed, without a deposit.”

Dean gave the man another fifty and shut the door in his face. Looking at where Sam lay shivering in the bed, Dean knew they would be leaving soon, very soon.

Later, Dean wondered what would have happened if they had went to see Missouri, the first time it happened. It would have made things a damn sight easier than it ended up being, that’s for sure.

Dean packed the Impala up and headed out of town, toward Colorado. Remembering an old shack not too far off the highway 50, Dean drove quickly, they just had to get there. They were close when the sun started to set behind the mountains and something inside Dean told him to floor it. The Impala seemed to fly the last few miles before Dean turned off on an old dirt road, pulling up outside an old shack as the last light of day left the sky. He managed to get his door open and herd Sam out just as the pain overtook him. He wasn’t sure what was going on all he knew was pain. The sun faded from view and his pain left him panting, lying on the ground.

Sam stood up and if Dean had had the energy he would have cheered to see his brother back the way he was supposed to be. Dean realized Sam was naked, but Sam was too busy staring at Dean to notice. Sam crouched near him; Dean could hear the gravel shifting under Sam and he could smell the plants that Sam had crushed under his bare feet in his scramble to stand.

“Dean?” Sam asked. Dean could smell the fear on him and once he smelled it, it filled his senses, making Dean whimper. He was scaring Sam and didn’t know why. He tried to stand and was suddenly filled with anxiety, he couldn’t stand up, his legs didn’t work. Then he looked at his hands where he was trying to push off of the ground and promptly fainted.

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Sam was trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was Dean, no matter how much it made him want to run for the silver bullets in the trunk. But, he stopped for a moment and actually thought. This was happening to both of them. He grabbed the duffel out of the back of the Impala and put some sweats on, as it was too cold to stand around naked.

After getting dressed, he found his phone. Flipping it open, he pushed down to Dad’s number and held his thumb over the send button. What if. . .well fuck that, he hadn’t called them back before and he certainly hadn’t answered his damn phone. Noticing the thing said _out of service area_ Sam flipped it shut and stared at his brother. Hell, Dad might even decide they were something to hunt.

Sam didn’t know how this had happened; hell he wasn’t even sure what had happened, but judging by the evidence in front of him, come dawn there would be a pissed off and naked Dean and a. . .. Sam glanced back at the Impala and trying to judge just how small he’d been and shook his head; it didn’t matter. Sam wouldn’t be able to tell Dean anything.

But he could now; however, he needed to think. He grabbed a lantern out of the trunk and set it on the porch of the old shack. Finding an old stool, Sam tested it and found it would hold him he sat down and tried to work out what the hell had happened. He had kissed Dean, feeling complete for the first time in his life and then. . .. He looked down at his hands and his still bare feet; there had been pain and he had a kind of muted memory of riding in the Impala, on the seat, with his head out the window.

Sam looked over at where Dean had collapsed again, worry on his face because Dean hadn’t stirred. Normally, Sam would fight about what was going on with Dean and then they would do research. Sam lifted his laptop up with very little hope that there would even be wireless access out here. He was happily surprised when he saw he had wifi - no phone service, but wifi. _God he loved this country_ he thought sarcastically, and then he noticed the battery at half power. Taking a good look at the shack they were at, Sam wandered inside, looking for outlets without much hope.

He would just have to charge it by the car’s battery, but first Sam typed _wolf_ into the Google box. A while later he closed the laptop as Dean stirred. Watching as his brother stretched and stood shaking himself, he appeared to have accepted what happened or maybe he just forgot like Sam seemed to have. Standing, he saw Dean’s head swing towards him.

“Dean?” Sam was hesitant, if Dean ran. . .. Fuck, Sam didn’t have a clue what he would do.

Dean whined and lowered his head as he walked into the light of the lantern. Sam held his hand out as he approached. Licking his hand, Dean sat on the grey, warped boards of the porch and Sam got a really good look at him. He was just as handsome as a wolf as he was a man. Sam ran his hand through his soft ruff and Dean moved to lean against him.

The wolf that was Dean had a multitude of colors in his fur; at least, that’s the way it seemed to Sam who could only judge by the lantern’s light. Black, grey, some brown and white mixed over his body. Looking at his white muzzle and underbelly, Sam thought that he was fairly commonly colored, at least judging from what he had seen on the internet. Then Sam’s eyes were caught by the wolf’s and he quietly gasped. They were green, the deep green of Dean’s eyes, not the yellow that was the norm.

Sam was up most of the night, sitting in the Impala typing a note to Dean. Writing down what he suspected would happen in the morning , he asked Dean to write him what his thoughts were, adding a warning about contacting anyone until they figured out what the hell was going on. Unplugging the laptop when it was fully charged, Sam moved from the car to the cabin. Finding sheets and supplies in a locked trunk in the attic, Sam heaved a sigh of relief. He left the laptop on the rickety table and salted the doors and windows. With Dean following right behind him, he crawled into the bed that while old, was still useable.

He was sure they would figure out what had happened, soon. They must have been cursed, but Sam didn’t recognize what was happening as a normal curse. Wondering if kissing his brother had caused this, Sam was overwhelmed by guilt. Dean seemed to sense his mood because he nudged his head under Sam’s hand with a slight whine. Digging his fingers into Dean’s fur, Sam tried to still his mind. Dean was here and so was he; that’s what was important.

Dawn came late in the mountains and Sam was actually hopeful that this was some sort of onetime thing as the cabin grew lighter, but he could feel something inside him shifting as the sunlight approached and he ran his fingers through Dean’s fur. “I’m sorry if this is my fault. We’ll fix it, I know we will.”

Then the sunshine broke over the mountain and shone on the cabin; inside on the bed where there had been a wolf and a man with long hair, there was now a short-haired man and a coyote.

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Dean was sleeping and woke up to the sun shining on his face. He looked at his hands and heaved a sigh of relief before he noticed that Sam was once again a coyote. Curled up next to Dean, his nose buried in his tail, he didn’t seem to be in distress. At least the change didn’t seem to hurt after that first time. Dean shivered with the memory of the horrible pain that had accompanied his change into. . . what, he wasn’t sure.

Sam looked up at him and whined as Dean got off the bed. Dean ran his hand down Sam’s grey-tipped dark brown fur and Sam flicked the black tip of his tail at him. Feeling a wave of helplessness overwhelm him, he wondered what they were supposed to do. As Sam looked up at him, Dean noticed for the first time that the coyote’s eyes were the same hazel green of Sam’s.

Dressing, Dean looked around the room and saw the laptop with a paper sticking out. He flipped it open after he grabbed a sandwich for breakfast. Sitting down, he looked at what Sam had written. He had done a lot of thinking about this, obviously. He shook his head at the coyote on the bed. Sam was paranoid, but that was Dean’s job and Dean knew who he could call in this situation. They weren’t going to find out anything stuck out here in the woods.

Flipping his phone open, he saw he had zero reception; it would have to wait, he decided. _Sam, Sam, Sam_ , thought Dean as he looked over Sam’s research. He typed in a few questions of his own. Why does the change affect one of them at night and the other during the day? What had they done, who had they talked to right before this happened? Dean listed who he remembered then he came to Joe White Tree and stopped. Had they somehow offended the old Indian? An Indian curse made sense to Dean, if just for the creatures that they turned into. There were a million Native American stories of the coyote and wolf - even ones, if he remembered correctly, of them being brothers.

However, he had never heard of this kind of curse. He grabbed Dad’s journal and sat down looking through it, hunting for even a rumor of what had happened to his brother and him. Giving up in frustration, Dean stood and decided to take a walk outside. Dean called him and Sam followed while Dean gave some thought as to what he should call him, when he was shaped like this. Sam just didn’t seem right and it might get them into trouble later when they went back into the real world, if they didn’t get this fixed.

On the other hand, he did respond to Sam. Dean looked up in the blue sky and fought off a wave of despair. Sam seemed certain they could figure this out.

A week later and no closer to a solution, Dean loaded Sam up in the Impala and they headed into the closest town. He needed to do something. Buying groceries for another few days, he stepped out of the store and noticed a small crowd around the car. He could hear Sam howling and yipping from the door. Hurrying over to the Impala, Dean pushed through a couple of people and pulled up as he came face to face with a cop.

“This your creature?” the cop snapped at him. Sam, of course, had quieted as soon as he saw Dean.

“It’s my dog,” Dean said pointing to Sam and Sam wagged his tail and licked the window.

“That’s no dog,” someone in the crowd said, and they stepped back as one when Dean opened the door. The officer drew his gun; someone screamed as Sam sat quietly at Dean’s heel and observed everyone. Dean reached down and ran a hand through Sam’s fur and felt calmer.

“I got him from some farmer out west, said he might be part cai-yot,” Dean said using the local slang for coyote. “Maybe so, maybe not, but he’s my dog.” Sam leaned against Dean panting.

“Oh for goodness sake Bob, put your gun away. We can all see it’s just a dog. Better behaved than yours, I might add.” A large woman stepped out of the crowd and turned to face them. “Don’tcha all have better things to do today than stare at some guy with his dog?”

“You need a collar for that thing,” the cop said.

“Got one here,” Dean pulled the collar out of one of the grocery bags. The purple band with rhinestones glinted in the sunshine.

The lady turned and told Dean to get going and to brush up a bit on coyotes before he tried to bring this one to town again. She winked and pulled the cop away from the Impala, asking him questions about his dogs. Dean took advantage of her goodwill, loaded the groceries and Sam in the car and left. Fuck, that had been close.

Dean settled into the chair on the porch after putting the groceries away. He hadn’t bought anything too perishable, but they would need to be moving soon. He just wasn’t sure how. Dean flipped open the laptop and reread Sam’s latest note. He was getting antsy, too - wanting to move on, to _do_ something. Deciding to take the lady’s suggestion to heart Dean did something he should have done a lot sooner.

Reading that the coyote’s Latin name _Canis latrans_ meant barking dog he looked down at Sam, who was curled up in a spot of sunshine on the porch. Grey tipped fur blending in with the boards, he appeared to be sleeping. Sam didn’t bark much - the thing with the car was the first time Dean had heard him make noise. According to one website, they make noise to communicate with others in their group. Since Dean was Sam’s group, at least that’s how it appeared to him, he didn’t bark because Dean was right there.

Looking Sam over, he reread the description and decided that Sam was a mountain coyote. They were larger, up to seventy pounds, and Dean guessed that Sam was near that. Also they had longer fur and were darker overall. Desert coyotes were more reddish-brown, and mountain ones were darker and had a thicker coat. He was gorgeous. Everything that Dean had wished for when he was younger and had dreams of owning a dog. But it was Sam, and Dean wanted his brother back.

Most of the legends he found were Native American; that didn’t surprise Dean, seeing as coyotes were native only to North America. Many of the legends about wolves and coyotes had them as brothers who fought, also understandable as usually a wolf and a coyote would never share territory. Dean decided that as horrible as this was, they were lucky. If they had both changed at the same time, Dean probably would have killed Sam and then if he could have got out the room, he would have been out of control. But this way, they could protect each other, control each other. He missed Sam’s voice with a longing that went to his soul, but at least he still had Sam.

One thing he noticed was every morning Sam would go around the area marking. He never growled, but he just kept at it. Dean figured it was where he had marked the night before as the wolf.

They had a routine of sorts, leaving note to each other on the laptop. Sam was the first to type _I miss you_. Dean had sat and looked at the words the next morning - it hurt. He had barely admitted to himself just how much Sam meant to him and then he was basically ripped out of his life. Looking down at the creature that rested with his head on Dean’s foot, he swallowed a sob. His brother was here, but he wasn’t. They could only communicate with these lame notes - Dean shook his head. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch; he knew they needed to get moving, but where?

He had left a note with Sam asking him to look; he had come up empty handed, but the next time Dean went to town he had got a text from Dad and he swallowed a half laugh as he saw what it was; a job in Illinois. Sam asked in his note what they were going to do about their “problem” and Dean’s answer was to pack up and hit the road with Sam. Dean called his Dad’s cell again, but there was still no answer. Sam had told him that he had hiked a mile or so up the mountain and managed to get reception, so he’d called Caleb, Jefferson, and Pastor Jim and no one had word of Dad.

It wouldn’t have been a problem before, them making it there in one day. However, Dean had found a semi-secluded rest area before sunset and took Sam back into the woods not too far from the car. Sam seemed to not have appreciated his purple collar. So Dean had found a black leather one by his hand when he had wakened one day. Thinking about collars reminded him that Sam had asked him to wear one, even though Dean was pretty sure that anyone who saw a full grown mountain wolf would just shoot him before checking him for a collar. Sam had written something about people seeing what they wanted to see. So Dean removed Sam’s and put it in the duffel and then he laid the flat leather strap that was his, out for Sam to put on him, thinking for a brief moment what it would be like to have Sam collar him when he was this way. Feeling the blood rushing to his groin at the thought, he groaned just as the sun set.

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Sam became aware as the sky was still orange and reached for the duffel that lay nearby. What he wanted to do was yell at his brother, but Dean was busy marking all the trees nearby and Sam knew it would be useless. Sam picked up the collar called Dean to him and fitted it around his neck. Without looking, Sam knew they were on their way to fucking Illinois for that job that Dad had sent them. Damn Dean and damn Dad. Even now with this. . .curse on them, Dean still wouldn’t disobey Dad.

Packing up the blanket and grabbing Dean’s clothes (they had learned that whatever they had on was lost somewhere in the change), Sam called for Dean again. He had been distracted with getting the blanket and being mad at Dad that he hadn’t noticed Dean had wandered off. Sam listened and couldn’t hear anything other than the cars on the highway. He called for Dean as he walked back to where he assumed the Impala would be and found Dean sitting outside the door, waiting to be let in the car.

Swallowing his heart from where it had jumped to his throat, Sam let Dean into the front and he promptly sprawled across the whole seat. “Move over, jerk,” Sam said as he slapped Dean’s rear, getting a resentful look. Tossing the blanket and the duffel with Dean’s clothes in the back, Sam debated for a little while about just heading back to the mountains. Dean might be safer there.

Finally, he decided to go along with what Dean was doing and got on the road. Getting into Rockford, Sam found a motel that took pets. Tossing down a card that listed him as Jimmy Page; it was just his luck to get the guy who liked Zeppelin.

Great, a ten minute talk about how cool it was that Sam had the same name as Zeppelin’s guitarist and by the end Sam again reminded himself to strangle Dean when he had the opportunity. Letting Dean out and getting him into the motel room, Sam plugged the laptop in and began doing research, cross referencing with Dad’s journal. It was clear that something was happening at the Roosevelt asylum and Sam wondered what brilliant ideas Dean would come up with.

Looking over at his brother sprawled across one side of the bed, Sam typed him a quick note and asked Dean to let him know what was going on. He was worried because no matter how much they wanted to, they wouldn’t be there to watch each other’s backs. Sam sighed with frustration. He wanted, needed to talk with his brother, touch him. It wasn’t fair, they had both just begun to admit their feelings and it was snatched away - their life, all the possibilities that they couldn’t explore. That is, if he hadn’t imagined Dean kissing him back.

Waking up the next night at the motel room, the first thing Sam looked for was Dean, crashed on the bed beside him, _good_. The next thing he looked for was a note. Flipping open the laptop, Sam saw that Dean had done as he asked and written thorough (for him) notes. Apparently, Dean had tracked down the other cop from the incident they had read about. In the incident a cop, Kelly had killed his wife then himself after being inside the old asylum.

Gunderson, who had been Kelly’s partner, apparently had a soft spot for dogs and sat and talked to Dean for over an hour all the while petting Sam. Dean put this in with lots of _lol’s_ and _*snickers*_ and Sam wanted to smack him again, but the green eyed wolf on the bed opened his eyes and huffed at Sam. Murmuring nonsense to soothe him, Sam watched as Dean lay his head down again. Calls to the manager they didn’t need. Dean couldn’t just disappear, blend in the scenery like Sam apparently could. Sam, as a coyote, seemed to be able to do just that. Dean had written that the waitress never even saw him.

The older cop had told Dean about the asylum. About how some kids had gone crazy in ’72 and started a fire in the wing of the hospital where Kelly had been. They had all died. Contacting a Dr. Ellicott whose father had been in charge of the patients at the asylum when it had been open, Dean managed to wrangle an after hours appointment for Sam. Looking at the time, Sam realized he had five minutes to make the appointment. Growling at Dean, Sam got him loaded into the car and made it to the appointment five minutes late.

“I’m Sam. Sorry I’m late,” Sam said as he shook the doctor’s hand.

“That’s okay. Dean said something about odd hours at work. He also mentioned you’d have a dog with you and asked if you could bring him in. I told him fine, but,” the man looked around, “maybe you left him at home?”

“No, he’s in the car. If you wouldn’t mind?” Sam hoped his ‘people see what they wanted to see’ theory worked with this psychiatrist. At the doctor’s shake of his head, Sam was out the door and down to the car. Snapping a leash on Dean’s collar, Sam led him into Ellicott’s office.

“That’s some dog. Is it part wolf?” The doctor asked from behind his desk.

Sam settled Dean at his feet and then looked up at Ellicott. “Maybe, got him when he was just a runt. And man has he grown.”

“Dean said you needed someone to talk to?”

Sam didn’t. He really didn’t, but he ended up talking about Dean some. He knew he was angry and resentful of Dean getting him back into this life. He just ignored it because right now there were more important things - like getting Doctor Ellicott to talk. In order to do that, to get him to talk about his dad and his work at the asylum, Sam had to appear to be playing along. Figuring out that there had been a riot in the same area where Officer Kelly had been in before his incident, Sam decided to check the place out.

It felt weird getting gear out of the back of the Impala without handing stuff to Dean. Loading the shotgun with the rock salt rounds, Sam grabbed the flashlight and let Dean out of the car, taking his leash in hand. If Dad could hunt alone, they could manage this way.

They entered the asylum and Dean immediately started this low growl, a rumble so low that if Sam hadn’t had his hand on Dean’s head he wouldn’t have known. Sam’s EMF equipment was showing multiple ghosts as he heard a scream. Holding onto Dean with one hand and the shotgun at the ready in his other, he headed toward the sound.

He ran into a girl and almost shot her. Kat, as it turned out, was in the asylum with her boyfriend Gavin. It wasn’t Kat who screamed so Sam tried to convince her to go and stay outside, but she was determined to find her boyfriend. Rolling his eyes, he let Dean lead him down some corridors and they found Gavin crouched in a corner. After determining that he wasn’t hurt, just scared, Sam pulled him up.

Gavin was babbling about some girl who kissed him and how she had half a face or something and then she tried to whisper into his ear, but he didn’t listen. Sam just wanted to strangle him. Then Kat screamed and both of them turned to find her missing. Dean pulled out of Sam’s hands and ran towards the sound. Sam followed, dragging a reluctant Gavin along and they stopped outside a locked door. Remembering that the ghost had tried to whisper something to Gavin, when Kat said she saw a deformed man coming toward her, Sam told her to just hold still and listen.

The door unlocked and Kat flung herself at Sam, but backed off as Dean pressed between them with a sharp growl. From what Kat told him, the ghost had said 137 - Sam figured it was a room number, but he wasn’t about to go and face whatever with Kat and Gavin along. He got them back to the door where they had come in, but it was locked or sealed. Leaving Kat, who had used a gun before, with the shotgun and telling them to stay put, Sam checked his supplies. Salt, lighter fluid, and Zippo, yeah he was ready for a salt and burn.

Dean padded quietly ahead of Sam and he was the one who found the room; he found the papers on the elder Doctor Endicott’s horrible experiments and he found the hidden room where the body was. As Sam prepared to salt and burn the body, he was attacked. Apparently experimenting on helpless victims wasn’t enough, the good doctor and his spirit were also into rage therapy.

Growing angrier and angrier at Dad at Dean, Sam nearly threw the salt across the room when suddenly Dean was there, biting his wrist, tugging him. Then Sam remembered the love he had for his brother and managed to fight the Doctor off long enough to toss salt and douse the thing with lighter fluid. Dean whimpered as Sam tossed the lighter on the corpse. With the nose he had, it probably smelled pretty bad; hell, it smelled bad to Sam too.

With the sprit gone, they headed out. Nearing the doors Sam was almost shot by Kat, but Dean pulled him back and he fell on his ass, just before she pulled the trigger. Sam gave his brother a look of wonder, and pulled himself up. Getting Kat and Gavin outside, Sam saw that the sky was starting to lighten. They had maybe a half an hour before the change. Packing up the trunk, he got Dean into the Impala and told Kat and Gavin that if someplace is known to be haunted, maybe they should stay away.

He didn’t even have time to write Dean more than one small line back at the motel before he felt the change coming. Sitting on the bed, Sam let Dean come and sit between his feet and for a brief moment he though he felt his brother’s arms around him - then he knew no more.

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Dean changed and he was kneeling on the floor, holding onto Sam as a coyote. He had just started getting dressed when his phone rang. Looking at the caller ID he lost his ability to breathe.

Dad. It was their father.

“Dad,” Dean said, but his father just started on about a job for them. Dean tried to tell him that something had happened to him and Sam, but he didn’t seem to listen. Finally, Dean took notes about what was going on and said that he needed to see him.

John Winchester told him that it was too dangerous and for the first time in his life that Dean could remember, he begged his father for something. Dad told him to do his job and keep Sam from looking for him. He actually asked to speak to Sam and, for a brief moment, Dean considered holding the phone up to the coyote’s ear just to hear Dad’s reaction, but the moment passed and Dean told Dad he was sleeping.

Telling him to watch out for his brother, Dad hung up and Dean stared at the phone for a long time before Sam nudged him and whined to be let out. Dean got dressed and snapped the leash on Sam. He could smell smoke and lighter fluid on it; Sam must have had a corpse burning. After walking Sam, Dean flipped open the laptop.

 _Spirit Dead, asylum clean._

What the hell kind of note was that?

Dean sat down and wrote back to Sam, telling him about the couples that kept disappearing in Indiana. He didn’t write that Dad had told him about it because, knowing Sam, he’d be taking off to California because that’s where Dad had called from. They had to stay together; Dean felt a moment of panic of what he would do if he woke up one day and Sam wasn’t there. He wouldn’t do that - surely he understood their safety, what little they had, depended on them sticking together.

Writing back and forth with Sam over the next few days eventually had Dean confessing about Dad and about his fear. It was probably the hardest thing he had ever had to say and he didn’t even have to say it, just type it.

Sam had responded the following night by driving them to Burkitsville, Indiana. He had done some poking around and in true Sam fashion found himself neck deep in trouble as the residents decided he would make a great additional sacrifice to their god. Lucky for him, as Sam put it in his letter, while the people believed in Vanir, the nature god, they also believed in Fenrir, the terrible wolf of the north. Dean set up a howling that scared not only the townsfolk away, but also the scarecrow god of theirs. Sam managed to get free and set the oldest tree he had ever seen on fire. No more sacrifices by the townsfolk to keep their nice ‘normal’ life.

Sam told him that he made it back to the car with Dean and managed to type a note before the sun rose and he collapsed into a small coyote ball in the front seat. Dean had looked at the tree burning in the middle of the orchard and quickly threw on his clothes and got the hell out of there.

They managed somehow to keep from being discovered as they found hunts. Sometimes it was Sam, like with that possessed chick Meg. They managed to get out of that one with some burns and scratches. Shadows, Sam had explained. Sometimes it was Dean, like that possessed painting. He’s still not sure how he figured it was that damn doll hair that was keeping the spirit here - maybe Sam had rubbed off on him more than he thought.

There were hunts they had to pass up, just because the threat of being caught was too great. Dean knew that Sam hurt over the ones they couldn’t save, but Dean managed to get Bobby on the phone once and told him about some of the ones they couldn’t do. Bobby knew people; they might not be as good as the Winchesters, but they would be good enough. Bobby, of course, had asked why and Dean had told him they were too busy. Bobby had responded that they all were, and Dean felt this niggling piece of fear wiggle its way into his heart.

It wasn’t just his imagination, there were more ‘jobs’ out there than there had been. Dean sat at a diner with Sam curling around his feet as he slipped him the occasional piece of bacon. It made Dean wonder what he ate as a wolf and he decided if it was anything like what Sam ate, he really didn’t want to know. A name in the obituary section caught his eye as he scanned the paper for anything unusual. Elkins, he knew that name. He pulled out Dad’s journal. Looking through it he found that name and a phone number. Flipping the laptop open, he got online and after a couple of hacks he found Elkins’ address.

Later that day, they pulled up next to a cabin. Dean let Sam out and was on guard immediately as Sam started growling, hackles raising a line of darker fur down his back. Dean had never seen Sam do this; he carefully pushed the door to the cabin open. Dean’s human nose smelled blood, old and dried. Walking in, Sam pushed by him and started sniffing, like a blood hound or something. Dean watched as he circled the room, stopping by an empty gun case, then sniffing at some scratches on the floor just as Dean spotted a journal, much like Dad’s. Looking closely at the scratches, Dean realized that it was a location and code.

They had an hour before sunset as Dean pulled up to the post office. It had been a location and a combination for a post office box a message just like one Dad would have left. Retrieving the letter, Dean sat in the Impala and debated opening it. Sam lay with his head resting on Dean’s leg. He was startled when there was a knock on the window.

 _Dad!_ Dean threw open the door and got out, hugging his father.

John hugged him back and then looked around. “Where’s Sam?”

Sam, who had got out with Dean, danced around the both of them and when he heard his name, he barked.

Dean dreaded Dad’s reaction. He turned to Dean and said half jokingly, “You traded your brother for a dog?”

Giving Dad a half smile, Dean handed him the letter. It was now about a half an hour to sunset. “Could we not talk about it here?”

Dad got in the Impala, asking Dean if they were going to pick up Sammy somewhere. “Nice job of covering your tracks back at the Elkins’ place,” John said, and Dean realized that Dad had been watching them.

Giving him another half smile, Dean told him that they learned from the best. Dad started talking about Elkins and about how he had learned a lot about hunting from him. Dean tried to tell him about what was going on with him and Sam, but John was not paying attention. Dean pulled off onto a secluded road and Dad asked him what he thought he was doing.

Dean tried again to tell Dad about him and Sam, but John just got more and more angry. Finally, Dean got out; there were only a few moments left before the change. He just hoped his dad didn’t kill him or Sam before Sam got a chance to talk. Grabbing the duffel out of the back so that Sam would have easy access to clothes, Dean told his dad to shut up and watch.

John got out of the Impala, slamming the door. By the time he got around the car Sam was crouched, naked as the day he was born, over the biggest wolf John had ever seen.

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Sam’s head whipped up as he heard footsteps on the ground. Turning, he stood to protect Dean from whatever was coming. Sam stared surprised to see their father.

“Dad?” He hated how he sounded like a three-year-old but the last time he had seen Dad they had parted on bad terms, with horrible words said between them and ending with his dad telling him to never come back. Before this change, he had been half sure that the reason that John was not available for them had to do with him. He had never felt that he was good enough at anything in his father’s eyes to be worthy of the name Winchester.

“Sam?” Dad’s voice was questioning, and something in it sent off alarm bells in Sam’s head. He used the same tone when he was hunting.

John stepped into the moonlight and Sam saw the revolver in his hand pointed at Dean. Sam threw himself between them. “No Dad! It’s Dean.” Sam was angry. Hadn’t Dean told him what was going on?

“What the fuck is this?” John asked and lowered the gun, though he kept his finger on the trigger. Deciding that he had a chance to get dressed, Sam took it. Grabbing the jeans and t-shirt out of the duffel that Dean had set nearby, Sam slipped into them more quickly than he had thought possible.

“This,” Sam said, “is what we’ve been trying to talk to you about.”

John looked confused for a moment. “What about the demon?”

Sam thought that Dad was talking about that bitch Meg that he had managed to trap and exorcise months ago. She had some interesting things to say about him and Jess’s death, hinting that she knew more about his life than he did. She had said something about _their_ father, but Sam ignored her and finished the ritual. “She’s been taken care of.”

“She?” John sounded as confused as Sam now felt.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Sam asked.

“The demon that killed your mom and Jess.”

So Meg hadn’t been lying about that. Maybe she hadn’t been lying about the rest either. Sam felt his legs get weak.

“You did know that’s what I’ve been hunting, right? Anyway,” Dad didn’t even wait for an answer, “what the hell is up with you and your brother?”

“You know what? Fuck you, Dad. You don’t answer your damn phone. You never returned any of our calls. We _needed_ you, and you were gone.” Sam looked down as Dean began to stir. He needed to calm down or Dean might attack Dad and one of them, maybe both of them, would end up hurt or dead. Taking a few deep breaths, he squatted next to Dean and began their story, leaving off the part where Sam kissed Dean and Dean had kissed him back.

“So, I’m a coyote by day and Dean is a wolf at night. Makes hunting not so easy.”

“But you boys still have. I’m proud of you Sam. You’ve done more than I ever suspected I was asking of you, both of you have.” John’s voice was filled with pride.

“So what exactly are you doing here?” Sam asked and looked at the gun that was still in John’s hand wondering at how pleased he was that his father had complimented him. “Please put that away, this is Dean. Not a werewolf. . . _Dean_.”

“Do you have any guesses who cursed you?” John asked him.

Sam shook his head. “Wanna take this back to our hotel room?” Sam pulled the key and directions to the place out of his pocket. He and Dean had found ways to cope.

“Sure,” John said, and got into the back seat after Dean jumped into the front. “He’s beautiful,” John said as he held his hand out to let Dean sniff it on the ride back to the motel.

Sam ran a hand through Dean’s thick fur. “I know.” He couldn’t tell his dad that he missed Dean like the other half of him. Couldn’t explain how he longed for Dean’s touch. That the brief moments at dawn and dusk when he thought he could feel Dean’s arms around him were what he lived for.

Stopping by the post office, John got his truck and followed Sam back to their motel. Getting Dean out of the Impala and into their room went smoothly, because they had done it so many times. Dad came in behind him and shut the door. Sam flipped open the laptop as Dean settled on the bed watching Dad.

“One bed?” John asked.

Sam shrugged. “Saves money and Dean doesn’t snore for the most part.” John just looked over at the wolf taking up half of the bed. Dean had left some notes about Elkins’ house. Sam asked his dad what the letter said as he watched him flip the thing over and over in his hands; the envelope making a scraping noise as it rasped across John’s palms.

John seemed to shake himself out of something as he broke eye contact with Dean, who gave a satisfied huff and closed his eyes.

“Just ignore him. He tries to get all dominant, but he knows who the boss is when he’s like this,” Sam said dismissively. He watched as Dad looked at the envelope in his hands.

“He was my friend, once,” John said as he turned the letter over again, this time opening it. “Taught me a lot about hunting, but we had a falling out. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”

“Is that why you’re here? He was your friend?” Sam’s tone implied that his friend was more important than they were.

“Jesus,” John said as he read the note. “That son of a bitch; he had it the whole time.”

“Dad, what?” Sam asked.

“Damn, I need to get back to Elkins’ place. It would be easier if you had searched it. I don’t suppose. . .” John’s voice trailed off.

“What?” Sam repeated.

“You remember what happens when you are. . . changed?”

“No, but Dean took notes. What did you want to know?” Sam clicked back to his brother’s note.

“Did he see an old gun, an antique colt revolver?” John asked.

Sam scanned the page. “He says he found an old case and that I was interested in it, but it was empty.”

“Then they must have it.” John’s voice was flat.

“You mean whatever killed Elkins?” Sam asked.

“We’ve got to pick up the trail.” John said with conviction.

“Wait, you want us to come with you?” Sam couldn’t believe after all this time that he just expected them to come along. “Because of a gun?”

“Yes,” John said short and to the point.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“If the gun is what he said it was, we need to get it,” John said clearly uncomfortable with having to explain himself.

“Dad, we don’t even know what we’re fighting.”

“They are what Daniel Elkins killed best - vampires. Come on,” John’s said, his patience wearing thin.

“I thought there was no such thing? You never even mentioned them, Dad,” Sam said, clicking the laptop shut.

Turning to his father, he made himself calm down because he could see what being upset was doing to Dean. Scooting the chair closer to the bed, he laid his hand on Dean’s neck, feeling the leather collar on it.

Walking over to a chair, John sat and started telling Sam about vampires. About how he had assumed they were extinct, that men like Elkins and others had wiped them out; that was why he had never said anything to the boys about it.

John informed Sam that most vampire lore was crap, that a cross wouldn’t repel them, sunlight wouldn’t kill them and neither would a stake to the heart. They were once humans, so they look like humans. The blood lust was true; they need fresh blood to survive. After telling Sam all of this he settled down and they listened to a scanner because if there were vampires there were going to be disappearances.

It must have been five hours to sunrise when Sam followed Dad’s truck in the Impala, Dean nearly sitting on his lap. Even in his wolf form he was trying to play the peacemaker. If it hadn’t been for his need to be calm, Sam wondered as he drove what would have happened if he and Dean hadn’t been like this. Just hearing Dad barking orders at him made him want to scream, but he was the one who needed to keep the peace, so he just swallowed his anger and did what dad said.

Finding a tooth at the scene where a couple had disappeared, John figured out more or less where the nest must be. Sam had to admit his dad was good. They stopped, pulling off the road onto an old, unused driveway. Dad asked Sam about the change, about when it happened, how it happened. Sam, his fingers curled on top of Dean’s head as the wolf sat panting next to him, thought about the answer.

“Doesn’t hurt; hasn’t since the first time.” Sam thought about the change and if it was noisy. “It’s quiet, but Dean’ll be naked and confused if we change out here. However, he’s quick,” Sam shrugged. “Will you tell me about the Colt now? Why is this gun so special?”

John surprised Sam and did just that. Explaining it had been a myth, and that until he had read Daniel’s letter he hadn’t really believed it existed. This gun with the bullets - originally thirteen now only six -could kill anything. Sam picked up on why his dad wanted this gun so much. “The demon, the one that killed mom and Jess, you’re going to kill it.”

“That’s the plan son, but first we need to get the gun.” He nodded toward the west, where Sam could just make out the top of a barn. “My question for you is, should we do this now? Or wait for morning? They sleep during the day. Sunlight doesn’t kill them, but it burns them; they avoid it.”

Dad was _asking_ him. Sam was speechless for a while, until Dean nudged his hand because he had stopped petting him. “Dean would be useful, this way.” Sam looked down at the ground. “I’m not sure how much help a coyote would be.”

John looked at Sam and Dean. “I’m sure you’re a great help, Sam. It’s your nature.”

First asking for his opinion and then a compliment; Sam wasn’t sure if he had slipped into an alternate reality while driving.

“But in this case, you’re right. Wolves hate vampires; at least, that’s the lore,” John said.

“So, what’s the plan? Do you really think the couple they took is still alive?” Sam asked.

“Sometimes they’ll keep them for days, draining them.”

Sam was worried about Dean. If wolves hated vampires, he wouldn’t be able to control him. If there were too many vampires, Dean could end up dead. He had a thought and asked a question. “What if Dean bites them, swallows their blood? Would he turn into a vampire?”

He could see his dad think about it and finally shrug, uncertain. “Then we’re not doing this, not this way. Wait for the sunrise and tell Dean what’s going on. Dean’ll keep me from biting anyone,” Sam told him.

“You’re thinking, I’m proud of you Sam. Let’s get everything ready for the morning then.” Sam nodded, digging the machete out of the trunk. Looking over at Dad he was just about to offer him one when John pulled out a nice, sleek machete that looked razor sharp.

There was a couple of hours till sunrise so Sam grabbed a blanket and Dean’s clothes. Sliding to the ground beside the Impala, Sam watched as Dad settled across from him. Dean curled up halfway around him and laid his head on Sam’s lap.

“We’ll figure this out son, I promise,” John said, and Sam just nodded in his direction. He kept his hand on Dean as he fell asleep and didn’t wake up until it was almost dawn; the sky was light and there was a golden glow on the eastern horizon.

Sam slid out from under Dean’s head and quickly stripped in the cold pre dawn air, ignoring his father. Sam wasn’t even sure he was awake. Holding his hand against Dean’s paw, he could feel somewhere deep in his soul that millisecond that he and Dean touched as people, and then he knew nothing.

Dean told him about the nest. Sam had stopped Dean from waking up one girl who had been tied up, but let him release the other captives. They got outside and apparently, for once, things went as planned. Dad had been fairly sure the vampires would come after them. They did that night and it got nasty; apparently wolves _really_ don’t like vampires.

Dean went crazy as they approached a road block and jumped out of the car as soon as Sam started to open his door. He had streaked off into the woods.

Sam watched as the vampires sent someone after Dean. Then Sam heard howling and looked away from the vampires for a second. He was captured apparently the guy wanted the Colt back and Dad pulled it out and shot the thing in the forehead. Just then Dean returned with five other wolves and they attacked the remaining vampires.

It was nasty and gory, but the wolves seemed to know that the vampires needed to be decapitated. Sam got into the mess when he saw Dean go down for a moment before he was in there swinging his machete. After it was done, Sam didn’t pay any attention to the gore around him, looking only at Dean. The wolves circled them for a moment; then with a short bark they left, disappearing back into the woods.

The wolf that was Dean walked over to the side of the road and with a heaving, gagging sound he threw up all the blood he had swallowed. Then Dad was there with a bottle of water.

“Help me clean the blood out of his mouth.”

And Sam did. Dean didn’t growl once as Sam opened his mouth and then pulled his lips back to bare his teeth. Sam knew they needed to get out of there. “Motel?” he asked his dad and got a nod. Watching Dad going around making sure all the vampires were dead kind of turned his stomach. This is what they did, killed supernatural things that killed people, but these ones looked so human.

After they had cleaned up the mess and burnt the bodies, Sam got Dean back to the car and followed their father to a different town. Before leaving Sam cleaned up as much as possible. It wouldn’t be good for them to be seen all bloody.

Dad got them a room and Sam got inside with Dean as quickly as he could. Stripping before the door was shut, Sam headed for the shower. Standing under the water, Sam tried his best to just not think, but every time he closed his eyes all he could see was blood, all he could smell was blood. Scrubbing down, Sam rinsed off and stepped out of the shower and there sat Dean, waiting for him. Sam didn’t put Dean in the shower but he did wipe him off.

Dean whined as Sam wrapped his arms around him and dug his fingers into Dean’s fur. He had almost lost Dean and Sam felt tears on his face as he buried it in Dean’s neck. Sam pulled back as he heard Dad in the other room. Letting go of Dean and grabbing a towel, he went out to get some clean clothes.

There was a little bit of time before sunrise and Sam sat down to talk to Dad. “You’re going after it. Leaving us behind again.” It wasn’t a question. “We’re stronger together Dad, can’t you see that?”

“You know why I was so angry when you wanted to leave for college?” John asked and Sam shook his head, a bit confused as to why Dad was brining this up now. “I knew you were going to be out there alone, that we,” he nodded towards one of the beds where Dean lay, sprawled out and panting, “wouldn’t be there to protect you. I was scared and it made me mad that you couldn’t see what kind of danger you might be in.”

“But why?” Sam started to ask when his dad asked him another weird question.

“Did I ever tell you that I started a savings account for you when you were born? I had one for Dean, too. Every month I would put a hundred dollars in each of them. They were supposed to be college funds.”

Sam looked up at him. He had never known that.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I never wanted this life for you boys. After your mom died, all I could think of was keeping you boys safe.” He huffed a half laugh. “Great job I’ve done of it.”

“We are both still alive, Dad. That’s something. This demon that killed Mom and Jess. . .. Let us come with you.”

John was quiet for a long moment and then he said, “After we figure out what’s going on with you two then we’ll go after the damn thing together.”

Sam gave a weary sigh of relief and lay next to Dean on one of the beds. Dawn would be coming soon and he hoped that fighting the vampires hadn’t done anything to Dean. Sam ran his fingers through Dean’s fur and felt his eyes closing. He never wondered about it, but he always felt better when he was touching Dean. Feeling safe, knowing that Dad was watching over the both of them, Sam fell asleep.

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When Dean woke up, Dad was sitting in a chair watching him. Looking over, he ran a hand across Sam who was sprawled out next to him, smoothing down his fur. Grabbing some clothes, he started to get dressed, but Dad made him come over so that he could inspect him.

“What happened?” Dean asked as John looked him over for wounds. Dean didn’t have a scratch on him.

“The vampires,” John said flatly, and Dean’s head whipped around to look at Sam. “He’s fine; it’s you we’re worried about,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“Because you bit some vampires,” John said quietly. “You really have no memory of it?”

Dean started to shake his head, but then he stopped. He did have a vague memory of running with other wolves, and then attacking something so wrong it made his head hurt to remember it. “There were other wolves?” he asked John.

John nodded and Dean put his hand up to his head. “I remember some things, but the whole thing is kinda fuzzy.”

Handing Dean his shirt, John told him he was good - no wounds. Dean nodded and finished getting dressed. He had gotten so used to waking up naked it didn’t even phase him anymore.

“Why do you boys strip before the change?” his dad asked him, and Dean put on his socks and boots while he answered.

“The clothes go somewhere. Lost a few outfits until we figured it out. So what’s the plan? Are you staying with us or leaving even though. . .” Dean didn’t finish his sentence studying the wall rather than looking at his father.

“I told your brother and I’m telling you. We’ll fight this thing together. But first, we need to go see Bobby. If anyone can figure out what’s going on, it’ll be him. It’s about an eight hour drive if we don’t stop. Hurry up and get ready to go; if we’re lucky we’ll make it there before sunset.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean said standing up and tossing his and Sam’s clothes in a pile. “Bobby’s place, hmm?” he said as he moved around the room. “Didn’t he run you off with a shotgun last time?”

“Yeah, but he’ll understand about this. Let’s go.”

Dean drove, watching his dad’s taillights with Sam curled up next to him, sleeping. Usually he liked to be up and moving as Dean drove and it drove Dean crazy, but he must be exhausted after last night because Dean got him in the car and he had curled up pressed up against Dean’s side, falling asleep.

Four hours later Dean pulled over because Sam was making it clear he needed out. John pulled over as Dean did and came back and started to yell at him, something about making time, but Dean ignored him. Snapping the leash on Sam, Dean let him out and he headed for the nearest bush. John shut up.

“I’d rather he didn’t piss in the car Dad,” Dean spoke quietly to his dad. “I made him wait as it was.”

John huffed in annoyance. “Well, let’s go.”

Pulling up to Bobby’s wrecking yard, John decided that Dean should go up first. Looking at the sky, he decided he had a good hour before the change. Dean left Sam with Dad in case Bobby had got dogs since the last time he had been here.

He was glad he did when a large Rottweiler came barking at him. Dean stood his ground and he held eye contact. Then Bobby was there yelling for Rumsfeld and the dog backed off.

“Dean,” Bobby said. “Why didn’t you call and say you were coming?” He grabbed the dog’s collar. “Sam with you?”

“Kinda, he’s back at the car with dad.”

“John’s here?” Dean could hear the menace in his voice.

“Bobby,” Dean looked at the sun, they still had some time, “we need your help. Dad’s the one who brought us here.”

Bobby looked closely at Dean. “Is Sam okay?”

“Kind of,” Dean said again, “but we’ve got trouble, big trouble. Will you help us?” Dean was willing to beg for this. “Please Bobby.”

“You go get your brother and that father of yours, tell him to keep his damn mouth shut, though,” Bobby told him. Dean nodded and took off running down the driveway. Telling his dad what Bobby had said, John nodded tightly; he had known Bobby wouldn’t be happy to have him here. “He’s got a dog. I’ll take Sammy.”

“I can protect my son,” John snapped at him and Dean sighed. They were quickly running out of time.

“I know you can, but he listens to me. Can we just do this? The sun will be setting soon and I’d like to have a chance to explain to Bobby what’s going to happen.”

John looked at the sky and nodded at Dean. Getting Sam back into the Impala, Dean drove down Bobby’s driveway and snapped the leash on Sam. Dean gave his dad a look and then led Sam inside, past Bobby’s dog.

Rumsfeld might outweigh him, but Sam was ready to take him on. John followed Dean and Sam inside with a look at Bobby, but he didn’t say anything. Shutting his dog outside, Bobby turned to them. “Where’s Sam? And why do you have a coyote on a leash?”

Dean didn’t want to have this conversation in the entryway. Moving into Bobby’s living room, he sat on an empty space on a couch and Sam settled at his feet. “This is Sam,” he confessed, pointing to the coyote on the floor.

Bobby snorted and looked at John. “This was the best you could come up with? If you wanted to apologize, you didn’t need to bring the boys into it. Now where’s Sam?”

“Damn it Bobby, this is Sam. You will see in a few minutes, but no matter what happens you can’t shoot them, either of them,” John told his old friend.

Bobby looked thoughtful. Dean knew that Dad didn’t ask this kind of thing from his friends. Handing Sam’s leash to Dad, Dean ran outside to grab the duffel from the car. Rumsfeld caught him and Dean watched as the sun grew closer and closer to the horizon; he looked the dog in the eyes and bared his teeth. He needed to be inside now, damn it.

Sam started howling from inside and the dog turned and ran to the door barking. Dean moved quickly, pushing past the dog and getting inside. He could feel the sun setting; he had been through enough of these changes to know that is was nearly time. He tossed the duffel down and took Sam’s collar off as he jumped around trying to lick Dean’s face.

“Down, you idiot,” Dean said. “I didn’t go far. Just to get your sorry butt some clothes.” Sam quieted quickly and sat on the floor. Dean spared a glance at Bobby and he hoped that Bobby wouldn’t try to kill him or Sam. Stripping and ignoring Bobby’s questions, Dean rested his hand on Sam’s head and that millisecond of everyday that he lived for happened; he felt Sam’s hair under his fingers and then nothing.

 ****

 ***********

  
Sam was quiet; the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up and he knew he was in danger. Where had Dean and Dad brought him? Feeling wood under his knees he quickly got up, one hand on Dean. Looking up, he saw Dad standing in front of Bobby, holding him back. Sam grabbed the duffel bag and quickly got into his clothes. Sniffing, he found they were starting to go ripe. Didn’t Dean know how to do the damn laundry?

They must be at Bobby place, but why? Sam looked at Dean who was watching Bobby and Dad in the doorway. “Dad?” Sam asked wondering if they were safe. John turned and looked at Sam and then he let Bobby go.

“Sam?” Bobby asked, and Sam nodded. “And that’s Dean?”

“What, you don’t believe your own eyes?” John asked.

“When they see something like this, yeah I don’t believe them. Is he safe?” Bobby asked Dean.

“If Sam’s good, Dean’s good,” John said.

Bobby looked at Sam. “What’s happened to you boys?”

“We don’t know, Bobby.” Sam sat down and put Dean’s collar on before he got Dean to lie down at his feet, though his eyes never left the other man. “We were hoping you could help us figure this out.”

“This is why you gave me those hunts,” Bobby said, and Sam nodded.

Springing into action, he had Dean on his feet as he walked quickly over to some notebooks. Grabbing a pen and telling John to sit his ass down, Bobby got ready to write. “Tell me what happened.”

So Sam did, leaving off the kiss, but he told him about how he had changed, then Dean had that night. It never varied - Sam was a coyote during the day and Dean was a wolf at night. They had little or no memory of what happened to them while they were animals. He told him about the notes they had left to one another. Sam told Bobby that if this was a curse he couldn’t think of anyone, and trust him they both had been thinking about it, who would curse them. Then he hesitated, unsure if he needed to tell Bobby more, but Bobby prompted him.

“I was having visions, seeing the future, but when this happened they just stopped,” Sam admitted.

Bobby looked thoughtful. He scribbled some more stuff in his notebook. “I need to do a little research, but I think I know where to look. Maybe tomorrow we can find out what’s going on. But don’t worry Sam, we’ll figure this out.”

“Dean’ll need to go outside soon,” Sam said, and Bobby jumped up.

“Let me get Rumsfeld in his kennel,” he said.

Sam nodded.

Slipping the collar on Dean, Sam took him outside and let him run. Rumsfeld went crazy barking but, Dean looked at him once and then ignored him; he was busy marking up everything. Sam watched Dean going around Bobby’s property and wondered just why they were here. It would have been nice if Dean had left him a note, but he got the feeling that there hadn’t been time.

It actually took four days and by the time Bobby had finished his preparations, it was night again and Sam was watching him pacing around. He looked hesitant, but finally he asked if Sam and Dean would stand inside his devil’s trap. John had objected, saying that they had already been tested with holy water. It was news to Sam, but Bobby just nodded. Explaining that with the magic he was going to be casting, they needed all the protection they could have.

Sam just nodded tiredly and asked Bobby where he wanted them. Setting a comfortable chair underneath the trap on his ceiling, Bobby had him sit with Dean nearby; they couldn’t touch during the test. Sam didn’t know how to explain it to Dean so he just settled him a little ways away where he could keep eye contact, hoping that his force of personality could keep him still.

Getting the feeling that Bobby didn’t do ritual magic that often, Sam watched him begin. Dad sat in an out of the way corner. He hadn’t told Sam what he was doing, saying it was just diagnostics. Soon Sam could see a deep red glow around Dean and, glancing down, around him too. It changed to orange and Bobby made a noise. Sam glanced up at him, Bobby looked surprised. To be honest, he looked shocked, like he had been expecting something else. Then the language he was using changed and Sam didn’t recognize it. The glow around them changed too. A bright green around Dean and a royal blue around Sam that merged to create a dark muddy blue. Bobby was pacing around the outside of the trap and again he changed his language. Dean was surrounded by a bright white light and Sam was surrounded by a black one.

“Do you see it John?” Bobby stopped chanting and asked. John made an affirmative sound and with a word Bobby ended the spell.

Sam called Dean to him and ran his hands across Dean, more upset by what had happened then he let on. He couldn’t stop his fingers from shaking. Dean nudged his neck and licked at his face and Sam felt oddly better. “What,” Sam swallowed wetting his dry throat, “what just happened?”

“I’ve got to do more research,” Bobby said and wandered off to another part of the house.

“Dad?” Sam looked at John, who looked shocked.

“It’s complicated Sam,” his dad told him.

Sam made a frustrated noise and Dean huffed. Taking some calming breaths, he ran his hand though Dean’s fur pressing his fingers against Dean’s warm skin. He was unsure if touching Dean calmed him down or if he calmed so he could touch Dean. However it was, he was just glad it worked. “Then explain it to me, please?” Sam asked.

“Let’s wait until Bobby gets back; it might be nothing.”

“Dad, nothing that has happened to us has been nothing,” Sam said flatly.

“Maybe nothing was the wrong word. It might not be what we think it is.”

Sam sighed. “And what do you think it is?” He kind of folded into himself; it had to be bad if Dad wouldn’t even try to explain.

Bobby walked back into the room holding a book on aura reading of all things. “I think I know what happened, but not why.” Sitting across from Sam, he flipped the book open. “First, I need you both to listen; you too, Dean, if you can understand me. Then I need you to think about what I said and don’t either one of you idiots open your mouth for a half an hour. Finally, you will tell me what you think and I will tell you what I’ve figured out.” He waited until he got affirmative nods from John and Sam.

“Aura reading is tricky - there are specific meanings for each color, but the meaning changes depending on what kind of reading you are doing. Part of the problem is that there are shades of colors that also need to be read.” Bobby pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his pocket and looked at the two Winchester men, daring them to say anything.

“First, was red - deep red around both of you, it means that you are realistic and strong-willed, you both do what you need to do in order to survive.” _Duh_ , Sam thought. “Then it changed to orange,” Bobby stumbled over the word and Sam looked at him and, oh my good freaking lord, was he blushing? Bobby avoided looking at Sam, John or Dean, which was quite a feat. “It means lust.” Bobby blushed an even brighter red, “Between the two of you.”

Sam jumped and whipped his head around to look at Dad, who was just staring straight ahead. Was this what he didn’t want to talk about? He knew about Sam’s not so brotherly love of Dean. Not Dean the wolf, but Dean the man. Bobby cleared his throat and Sam looked back at him.

“Next was a change, different colors around both of you. Dean had a bright green aura, which means he’s a healer, and a love-centered person.” Sam’s eyes were locked on Dean’s bright green ones. Dean was the one who had always tried to play peacemaker, to heal what was broken between Dad and him. Sam couldn’t count the number of times they had had to bandage themselves up and Dean had always made him feel better with just a touch.

“You Sam, you had a bright blue and that says that you are clairvoyant, highly spiritual and very generous. Then it changed to a muddy blue around both of you; it means you have a fear, of the future and of speaking the truth.” Bobby looked as Sam and Dean, took a deep breath and continued.

“Finally, Dean was surrounded by a white light, which would usually mean purity and truth, almost angelic qualities.” At that Sam snorted, he couldn’t be talking about Dean. Bobby went on, ignoring Sam’s noise. “And you Sam,” Bobby looked very serious. “Black, which would usually mean unforgiveness and a deep seated greed.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest and Bobby held up his hand. “I don’t think that is what either Dean’s or your colors mean. What you couldn’t see from where you sat was the way the colors were moving, being drawn towards one another; there was a _Taijitu_ , a yin-yang symbol, forming clearly between you. Like you were two halves of a whole or like one of you is missing something and the other is trying to fix it.” Bobby sighed. “I need to do some more research. . . again.” Standing, he looked at the three people, if Dean as a wolf still a person. “Also, Sam. . .. Someone has done some major witchcraft on you; there are demons messed up in it somehow. It’s messy, but it’s there. Now do as I said and THINK! I’ll be back in a bit and we can talk.”

Sam opened his mouth at least five times in the half hour, intending to say something to Dad but there was a look on John Winchester’s face that told him now was not the time. So Sam thought, and thought about what Bobby had told him, had told _them_. He reminded himself to make sure to type Dean a note later. Bobby walked back in the room and Dad spoke up, “Sam is not evil, Bobby.”

Feeling a weight lift from him that he hadn’t even known he was carrying, Sam stared in a kind of astonishment at Dad. Dean pushed nearer Sam and when Sam patted his side Dean was trying to climb in the chair with him. “Damn it, Dean,” Sam said and pushed him out of the chair. Getting him settled, he looked over at Bobby who was watching it all with an amused look on his face.

“Never said he was, John.”

Sam looked at Dean because he didn’t want to look at either John or Bobby; he didn’t want to have to explain to the two men about what he felt for Dean.

“Did either of you two come up with anything? And no Sam, we don’t want to know about your feelings for Dean, or his for you for that matter; I think it was pretty clear.” Bobby seemed to have gotten over his embarrassment. Dad cleared his throat and Sam raised his eyes, dreading to see what was in them.

“Sam, have you?”

“No, no dad.”

“But you want to?” John asked, more a statement than a question, but Sam answered it anyway.

“Yes, if we weren’t changing, we would be together.” Sam lifted his chin, daring his father to say something.

“So what stopped you?” Bobby asked, and Sam looked at him confused. “What stopped you from being together before you changed?” He asked like he had an idea and was waiting for confirmation.

Sam blushed and looked down. “I. . . we had just admitted, um, our feelings and this happened.”

Bobby crowed in victory and Sam looked at him in astonishment. “Love, it’s love that’s done this to you two.” Then he calmed down and looked at both of them - at the three of them.

“You said witchcraft was involved,” John said. “Could it be responsible for this?” Sam wasn’t sure if the ‘this’ Dad was talking about was Sam and Dean’s current condition or the fact that Sam and Dean were in love.

Bobby nodded. “I can’t figure it all out, but someone put some powerful protections on this boy,” he nodded at Sam. “You need to talk to someone who knows about this stuff.”

“No, Bobby. I can’t.” John said.

“Then don’t. He and Dean can make it there just fine. They’ve been doing good by themselves.”

Sam watched as Bobby and Dad fought, kind of. By then end Dad had agreed to go, but only if he could take Sam.

“I’m not going anywhere without Dean,” Sam stated flatly. Watching as Dad ran a hand through his hair, Sam’s fingers tightened in Dean’s fur.

“Sammy,” John started and then stopped himself. “Sam, this thing between you boys might be hurting you. Ellen will hopefully be able to tell us at least something about what’s going on.”

“Witches are evil. You told us that.”

“In this world, there is more than one kind of witch. You met Missouri - tell me she’s evil.” He gave a short laugh. “Hell, I wanna see you tell her. You said you were having vision and you aren’t evil. Sam, when I told you that,” John looked down at his clasped hands, “I didn’t understand like I do now. Ellen Harvelle is the most talented witch I know. I used to hunt with her husband.”

“Used to?”

John looked half angry and half sad. “He died on a hunt, and she blames me for his death. Once she was friends with your mother, but she threatened to kill me the next time she saw me.”

“That seems to happen to you a lot,” Sam quipped and Bobby laughed.

“He’s got you there, John.”

“Anyway,” John continued, “she would be our best hope in finding out what is going on. Bobby’s got a safe place for Dean and he can explain what’s happening to him in the morning.”

Sam looked at Bobby and he nodded. “You can keep him safe? He’s very strong and he’s never changed without me there. . .I don’t know.” It hurt Sam’s heart to think about Dean feeling abandoned.

“I can keep him safe; besides, it’s only for one night.”

Sam looked at Dad. “Promise?”

John nodded and Sam told him he needed to hear him say the words. “I promise we’ll be back the next day.”

Then Sam relaxed, knowing that John Winchester would die before breaking his word.

 **  
**

***********

 **  
**

When Dean woke up the next day, Sam was gone. Flying out of Bobby’s spare room in a panic, he ran into the man in the kitchen. “Sam’s gone. Is he outside?” Dean asked, even though he knew deep in his soul that he wasn’t.

“Dean, sit down,” Bobby said setting a cup of coffee on the kitchen table in front of him.

“But. . . Sam. We need to get him. Where’s Dad? He’ll help me look. Bobby, he’s gone. He’s been taken. Who would take Sam? Dad? Dad!” Dean yelled.

“Dean. _Sit down_.” Bobby ordered him drill sergeant style and Dean sat automatically. “Your brother hasn’t been taken. Well, not in the way you think.” He got Sam’s laptop and set it in front of Dean.

Reading the message, he looked at Bobby a couple of times in disbelief; then he read that Dad and Bobby knew something about them wanting each other. Dean didn’t look at Bobby again, even after he finished. Instead, he blew on his coffee and looked at it as he spoke. “So Sam and Dad are going to this Roadhouse to see Ellen?”

Bobby made an affirmative noise and Dean plowed ahead. “You and Dad know that Sam and I. . ..” He stopped he couldn’t go on.

“That you love each other, yeah.” Out of the corner of his eye, Dean caught Bobby rubbing his neck. “That you wanted it to be physical, yeah.” He finished the sentence and turned away to the stove.

“But we never. . . it was just a kiss. . .” Dean tried to explain.

“It was enough,” Bobby said, “obviously.” He sat two plates full of eggs, hashbrowns, fried ham and toast on the table, one in front of Dean. “If anyone can help, it’ll be Ellen.” He sounded certain, and Dean had to have faith in that. Grabbing his fork he dug into the food, both men eating in companionable silence.

“You’ve got some place for me to stay tonight?” Dean asked. He wanted to be busy so he didn’t feel Sam’s absence so badly. It hurt him. Not physically, but mentally; it was like something was missing -like a tooth and he kept prodding at the hole. Bobby seemed to sense what was going on, or maybe he just understood.

“You wanna come see?” Dean was on his feet and grabbing his jacket almost before Bobby stopped talking. “I’ll take that as a yes. But you might want to get some pants on first; shoes would help, too.”

Dean looked down. He had been so distracted by Sam not being there that he had barely managed to get any clothes on. Heading down the hallway, he decided that he wasn’t going to be embarrassed. Bobby seemed to understand.

Getting the rest of the way dressed, Dean headed back to the kitchen where Bobby waited by the back door. Dean looked over the cage, shaking it and pushing at it. It was small, but Dean fit and so would his wolf self; it wasn’t big enough for him to get a run at the thing. He’d be able to stand, turn and lay down. There was even wire on the floor of the thing so he couldn’t dig out. “Looks good, Bobby. Why you got something like this here?”

“Sometimes, you just need to catch stuff.”

Then Dean understood. Looking closer at the cage and the frame surrounding it, he spotted several runes and other things carved or twisted in the wire. Whatever was in this cage would be calm, and peaceful. “Perfect,” Dean said, because he had a feeling that the wolf in him was not going to like Sam being gone.

Dean found out later, from Dad and Sam’s notes, that the trip to the Roadhouse was quite eventful. Dad said that Sam started howling from the moment he changed and never shut up - not once until John was pulling into the parking lot of the Roadhouse. John had called Ellen and asked to see her. Apparently she was reluctant, which both Dean and Sam took to mean that she told him to fuck off and leave her alone.

John said something to convince her to at least take a look at Sam. Sam wrote that after he changed, he heard Dad getting told off by more than one woman. He found some clothes in the back room he had been in. After getting dressed, Sam had slowly opened the door and found himself facing a young woman.

She had been waiting for him, it seemed. Jo was her name and she was Ellen’s daughter. She told Sam to follow her. Looking around, Sam hadn’t seen his Dad and asked where he was. Jo just told him that his dad was waiting outside with her mom and if they didn’t hurry, someone was going to get hurt, and it wasn’t her mom.

Sam grabbed his hoodie and followed her outside, stopping as he had heard Ellen and Dad fighting.

“It’s your damn fault, John; you left him.” Ellen’s voice was low and rough.

“I swear to you, Ellen, I thought he was right behind me. We were both running and I never did see what was after us. I turned back as soon as I realized that Bill wasn’t there. I didn’t leave him and I didn’t stop looking until I found him. He was bleeding, but I didn’t know how bad until we were back at the truck.” John had looked tortured, Sam said. “He was bleeding out and he never said a word. I didn’t know until he collapsed and then it was too late. I wasn’t sure what had killed him so I did for him as I would have wanted done for me. I salted and burned the body.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make, John Winchester,” Ellen’s angry voice had carried over to Sam easily.

“Would you have rather I brought his torn up body back, and then maybe have had to figure out what to do with him if it was a vampire or worse. . .? Ellen we didn’t know what it was.” John’s voice trailed off as he noticed Sam and Jo standing in the darkness.

Ellen turned to Sam and her daughter with a small smile. “Samuel,” she said, and held her hands out to him. Sam walked over and stopped in front of her. She smiled a real smile in welcome. “You need some help.” Looking him over thoroughly, Sam almost felt like a prize race horse and halfway expected her to want to look at his teeth.

“Yes, ma’am.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “You knew my mother.” She nodded. “Was she a witch like you?”

She didn’t answer his question, but had asked one of her own. “Have many visions, Sam?”

“How did you know? Did mom have visions?” Sam asked intently.

“Occasionally, but Missouri was the true seer among us.”

Both John and Sam jumped. “Mosely?” John said.

Ellen gave John a small smile. “It was why she could be there for you when you were ready. But you Sam, you were supposed to be protected. What happened?”

Sam hadn’t wanted to explain again so he let John do it. John left out the kissing and Sam and Dean’s revelation while Jo was there. Ellen had sent Jo back inside to clean up and make sure no one was taking undue interest in their guests. Then she had grilled John until he told her everything - the kiss, the desire, about the symbol that had formed of their auras, and about what Bobby had said about demons.

Ellen’s face had darkened and she frowned at Sam. She once again looked him over, walking around him; this time she was chanting something. “Have you ingested demon blood?”

Sam thought about Meg and shook his head, but then he remembered a vision he had before they stopped - about Mom on the ceiling and a yellow-eyed man dripping blood into his mouth. At the time, he had just assumed it was a nightmare, but maybe it wasn’t.

“I used to have visions,” he confessed and Ellen just looked at him. “But not since. . .this change happened. But I think I had a vision; it felt more like a nightmare.” When he told her, she gasped and looked horrified. “What?”

“What is it, Ellen?” John asked.

“Oh, fuck,” she said quietly. “It’s you and Dean changing and it’s you and Dean who love each other. You miss him now like half of you is gone. And it is. Ah hell, we need whisky.” Ellen turned and headed back into the bar.

Sam had exchanged a confused look with his dad and then they followed her. The next part of Sam’s note was filled with so many question marks and exclamation points that Dean had to go in and take them out to make the damn thing readable.

The gist was that Sam had a half a soul because he was conceived by a possessed John. Demons, it seemed, rather liked having children with mortals because that offspring was more easily controlled or influenced due to their lack of half a soul. Somehow, Mom had figured out what had happened and cast a spell with Ellen and Missouri to protect Sam until he could find his soul-mate. That person could heal him, heal his soul and make it whole.

What the demon blood had done was to twist the spell - when Sam realized he found his soul-mate, it would force them to be apart. Apparently, he was Sam’s soul-mate and this wasn’t his, Sam’s, or some curse’s fault. Soul-mates, if anyone had asked Dean last year if such things existed he would have a laughed in their face. He never had time for romantic crap.

Somehow this curse affected both of them, but Ellen figured that the Demon hadn’t counted on Dean. Another person probably would have flipped out, ran away and been killed or caught and held by the government; they both would have.

But neither Sam nor Dean had let that happen. Ellen said that she would get a hold of Missouri and meet them here, at Bobby’s place. She had hope, and so did Sam. His last lines to Dean were about longing and love and the belief that they would soon be together.

Dean wasn’t so sure it was going to be that easy. Nothing about this was. Asking Bobby how he had been while Sam was gone, Bobby hadn’t replied. Instead he took him to the cage and showed him. Dean had managed to chew through some of the wires and apparently tried to push out. Noting the blood around the edges, he felt himself over.

“There isn’t a mark on you, but you were bloody enough before the change. Sam just about drove me crazy when he got here and you were half way out and stuck, almost impaled.” Bobby pointed to a long piece of wire that bent inward and was covered with blood. “As soon as you saw Sam you calmed down and he got you out. I am not going to do this again.” At Dean’s look Bobby told him that besides almost dying, he had not stopped howling for hours. He was lucky his nearest neighbors were miles away.

Reaching down, Dean patted Sam on the head. He didn’t stop whining and wouldn’t move more than a foot away from him, even to pee. Dean finally gave up and found a place outside to sit and Sam tried to crawl into his lap. Petting him, Dean considered what Bobby had told him.

“So we heal when we change?”

“Seems that way,” Bobby agreed.

John grabbed a chair and brought Dean and Bobby a beer. Sitting down, he looked at Dean. “Sam tell you what was going on? He was typing long enough on that thing.”

 

“Yes, more or less. He said that Ellen and Missouri were coming here but I wasn’t clear on why.”

“Did Sam explain that your mom and ‘em cast a protection spell on him?”

Dean shook his head. “He said something about soul mates.” Dean felt his face flushing, but kept his eyes on his dad. He had a long time to accept the way he and Sammy felt about each other and, while he wasn’t proud of it, he had come to the conclusion that neither was he going to be ashamed.

“Ellen remembers that you were sleeping outside Sammy’s door when they cast the spell and she thinks that might have influenced things, but she isn’t sure. Dean, this isn’t your fault and it isn’t Sam’s either.” Dad looked right at him and Dean nodded, looking down at Sam who was curled up as close as he could be to Dean. His head rested on Dean’s legs where they stretched out in front of him. “We’ll fix this, son.”

Taking a drink of his beer, Dean leaned back against the car and he looked up at the sky, watching the high clouds moving across it. “So what are Missouri and Ellen supposed to do?”

“Figure out what happened and what we can do,” Bobby said.

“How?” Dean asked.

“Since they were the ones to cast the spells, they think they’ll be able to break it down. At least that’s the plan.” Bobby explained.

Dean nodded. “When?”

“They should get here today, so tonight probably,” John spoke up and Dean stared at Sam. It would be Sam they talked to.

Dean pushed off the ground and without a word to the other men, he walked into the house. Getting the laptop, he took it to their bedroom and sat on the bed, remembering the quilt from when he and Sam used to stay here when they were little. When it was Uncle Bobby, and things seemed at least a little simpler.

Sam settled at the end of the bed as Dean sat back against the headboard, the laptop propped on his lap. These letters to one another had been a bridge, a way to feel like the other person was still there, but Dean couldn’t help but feel alone. He didn’t get to talk to Sam, he didn’t get to fight with him, to touch him.

Clicking on their hidden folder, Dean read. Sam had started this and who knew he was such a kinky bastard. Leaving Dean a trail of word clues in one of his regular journal entries, things that only Sam and Dean knew, Dean found a hidden file folder and figured out the password. Sam. Somehow Sam had found the time, energy, whatever to do some research. At first it was stuff about homosexual sex, how to do it, how not to do it, if it mattered who bottomed. Sam had also written that he hadn’t known anything about it and asked Dean if he did.

It was then Dean had admitted that he had had sex with a boy before. Maybe more than one, but certainly not more than three. Sam had tried the next day to figure out who they were. He was semi-successful, getting two out of three and missing the third only because it had happened when he had been away at college; away with Jess.

Dean had asked him about Jess and about how Sam had known about his feelings for him, thinking that Sam would write him a book, but he didn’t. What Dean got was, “It was always you, I just never knew it.”

Staring at the words, Dean had sat for a long time that day, missing Sam so badly it hurt, even though Sam was, at the time, wrapped around his feet. Dean tried to snap out of his funk and typed something to Sam about Sam collaring him.

Sam responded with a few pictures of collars and restraints and told Dean exactly how he would use them. Dean had ended up jacking off to the images that Sam evoked - coming, he realized, for the first time in months.

Trying to return the favor, Dean wrote back about what he wanted to do to Sam. Writing that he fantasized about bending Sam in the backseat of the Impala and taking him, claiming him and then laying him out and sucking every last drop of come out of him, Dean had been hard when he finished.

The notes to one another had gotten progressively dirtier. Dean had a multitude of stories that Sam had written him that he could use as jack-off material. Finding that Sam had a kinky streak and a great ability to write porn, Dean had tried to keep up with him, but he couldn’t. Finally, Dean just left Sam suggestions and requests and let him write the stories. Well, porn as there wasn’t much actual story involved, but no matter it still read way better than any of the crap he used to read in _Penthouse_ forums.

Dean picked his favorite and unbuttoned his pants, sliding his hand down and grabbing his already stiffening cock. He played with it slowly while he read one of Sammy more possessive stories. How he wanted to take Dean and make him his; it was about fingers and tongues, lips and cocks, smooth skin and hot sex and it made Dean come quickly, even though he tried to draw it out. The images Sam painted in his mind were just too much for him.

Closing the file, Dean moved the laptop and got up. He wanted to wash before the coyote that was Sam got interested in him. It had happened once before; Dean had fallen asleep and woken as Sam nuzzled his crotch. Dean had pushed Sam away and quickly cleaned up. He might be into kink, but he wasn’t into bestiality. Sam had settled down after he had cleaned up and Dean had never again fallen asleep right after jacking off.

Sam settled again on the foot of the bed and Dean typed a message to him, telling Sam that if Ellen, Missouri, and or Bobby had any brilliant ideas he should take them - even if it meant leaving Dean behind. Dean knew that Sam wouldn’t, but he had to put it there so he would know that Dean had thought about the possibility.

Dinner was a quiet affair and after he finished, Dean went up to his room to get ready for the change. Sam still wasn’t straying more than a few feet and never out of eyesight. Dean removed Sam’s collar and placed his own on the bed. Stripping down, he laid out some clean clothes for Sam, having done the laundry because Sam had said something in his note. Sitting on the floor, he held Sam who sat between his legs. The sun set and Dean’s ever present sorrow left him as he changed.

 ****

 ***********

  
Sam was holding Dean. Looking him over, Sam was relieved to find that Dean wasn’t hurt. Feeling for scabs that should be covering the cuts that he had seen yesterday when they had got home, Sam stopped when he couldn’t find any. Getting dressed, Sam padded barefooted down to the kitchen with Dean right on his heels. He couldn’t explain, he supposed it had to do with the ‘soul’ stuff, but he felt better with Dean closer; it was even better if they were touching.

If Dean as a wolf knew that John had left with him, he never acted like it. Dad had saved some meat from dinner and he gave it to Dean, who ate it and then licked Dad’s hand. Sam had almost growled at John as Dean let him run a hand across his ruff. Stopping himself, Sam wondered at just how possessive he felt about Dean. Sam told Dad and Bobby about being unable to find the cuts on Dean that he knew should be there. Dad again ran his hand down Dean and told Sam that he had been healed in the morning, when he changed. Sam wanted to hit his Dad for touching his brother. While he ate, Sam examined his feelings. He was jealous. Jealous that Dad and Bobby got to see Dean when he was Dean, got to touch him, talk to him and all Sam got were notes.

At one point, one of them had brought up video. They could make videos for one another. Sam had thought it brilliant until his bag was stolen one day. He had got it back easily enough, but it made him think about how such a video could be misused. Sam told Dean no and why, and while Dean agreed he wanted to know why Sam had been stupid enough to let his bag get stolen. Sam said it was because he had been trying to keep a horny wolf from mating with some bitch that had gone into heat. Dean dropped it.

An hour past sunset, Ellen pulled up Bobby’s drive and Dean growled. It was Dad who put a hand on his head and he quieted. Bobby led Ellen into the house and she stilled as Dean stood and walked over to check her out. “Dean.” Ellen breathed out his name and Sam could have sworn he heard it echo, even though that was impossible. Holding her hand out, Ellen let Dean sniff her, and then she knelt in front of him.

Dean whined and sat in front of Ellen. “You remember, some part of you remembers me. Oh, Dean, I am so sorry this happened to you.” Dean licked her chin in apparent forgiveness and Sam growled. Dean was his, damn-it.

“Sam,” John snapped, and it was then that he realized he was actually growling.

Shaking his head, he apologized to Ellen, who stopped him saying that she should apologize to him.

“He’s your soul mate and with the bond being incomplete. . .at times it must feel like you’re going mad. You were separated from Dean yesterday for the first time since this happened and that makes you raw.”

Nodding slowly at her, Sam turned his head when Dean’s turned toward the door. Moments later, Bobby’s dog started barking again. Sam smiled as Missouri walked thought the door. Watching as everyone circled around, greeting and hugging, Sam waited and Dean came over and sat beside him.

“Sam,” Missouri said, as she finally stood in front of him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “The first rule, ‘And ye harm none.’ I fear we have harmed you by trying to protect you. I should have tried harder to See. But I was so wrapped up with Mary’s death that I didn’t, and I’m apologizing for that.”

Ellen made a noise and Missouri shot her a look that shut her up. Sam looked between Missouri and Ellen, trying to figure out what was going on. “You were trying to help me – hell, you have helped me. It’s okay.” Sam spoke to the entire room. “If we are going to blame someone, blame that yellow-eyed son of a bitch.”

Sam heard Ellen sigh with relief and Sam cocked an eyebrow at Bobby, who nodded and let Sam know he would explain later. Looking up at his Dad, Sam wondered what he would see there, reflected in his eyes. It wasn’t fair, they had just started getting along and now his dad would know there was a reason why he didn’t care for him. What Sam saw broke his heart. He hadn’t spoken much on the drive back and then he had been dealing with Dean, hurt and almost dying. Sam thought that everything would be okay, but now, with Dad avoiding looking at either Dean or him, Sam wasn’t sure.

“I need to take Dean out,” Sam stood, holding his tears back. Of course his Dad couldn’t love him; the thing that had fathered him had killed Mom and Jess and lord only knows how many other people. That was what he had come from. Dean sensed that Sam was upset and stayed touching him, only leaving briefly to pee and then hurrying back to press against Sam’s legs once more.

Sam could hear raised voices from the house, but he couldn’t, didn’t want to make out what they were saying. Maybe he was evil, like Meg had said. It was his nature; why else would he pick Dean as his soul-mate? Ruining Dean’s life and dragging him down to Sam’s level. He was certain that wherever he went, Dean would be there, even if Sam were to turn demonic.

“Sam?” Bobby quietly called out. He thought about staying silent, but decided that was childish. Bobby was a strong hunter; maybe if Sam asked, he would be willing to take him and Dean out before he hurt anyone.

“Here, Bobby,” Sam said from where he sat in a chair; it was tilted back and he was leaning on the car behind him, Dean at his side.

Bobby found another chair and sat down. “You want to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

Instead of answering, Sam blurted out, “Will you kill me?” At Bobby’s horrified look, Sam tried to explain better. “If I’m evil, because of that demon, will you kill me?”

“Sam, we’ve been over this. You are not evil.”

“But Mom died, Jess died, we. . ..” He put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “We exist in this half life, because of me. Dad. . .” Sam choked and couldn’t continue. Dean whined and nudged him, and Sam pulled himself together. He needed to try and explain. “Dad isn’t my dad. He hates me because I did this to Dean. He thinks I’m fucked up for wanting Dean and. . .”

“Samuel Winchester, don’t you dare put words in my mouth.” John stepped out from behind an old truck.

“John, he asked me to kill him,” Bobby said quietly.

“I know, I heard.” John sighed heavily and turned to look at Sam. “I will not lose another member of this family. I can’t. I almost didn’t make it when your mother died; I will not watch either of my sons die. Do you hear me? I won’t!” John was almost shouting and afterwards all Sam heard were crickets. Then the screen door banged open.

“If you boys are done moping, Missouri has some ideas.” Ellen’s voice rang across the salvage yard and Rumsfeld started barking. Dean stood as Sam did and they all headed back inside.

They all managed to crowd into Bobby’s living room. With Bobby making whining noises and grabbing things from Ellen’s hands as she cleaned off the couch, they soon all had a place to sit. Dean sat on the floor between Sam’s feet and Sam let his hand rest on Dean. They all looked at Missouri as she stood in the middle of the room.

“We think there are a couple of ways to beat this twisting of the protections, or curse, if you’d like. Both unfortunately both involve the demon that did this to you.” Missouri spoke to Sam, but out of the corner of his eye he could see his dad’s face tighten. “And you need to be there John, so get off your high horse,” she said without looking at him.

“The first thing. . .” this time Missouri spoke to the whole room, “is that Sam and Dean need to face the demon as humans.”

Frowning, Sam started to say it was impossible, but then he thought about it, like Bobby had tried to get him to do. “The eclipse.”

“One week from now, going from Montana to North Carolina,” Missouri nodded. “Then you wouldn’t have to do anything else. The other way is harder and more dangerous. You need to get the Demon to release you from his blood.” Ellen nodded in the background.

“Eclipse then,” Sam clapped his hands together and everyone jumped. “Right?”

“Son,” John said quietly. “I’ve been looking for that damn demon since you mother died. In twenty two years I haven’t found him; how are we going to do it in one week?”

Sam sat quietly and then said, “Me.”

“What?” Bobby asked.

“He’s got this tie of blood to me and I think we could use it.” Sam looked around the room to see if they understood. “Use it to track him, or maybe even call him.”

John slammed his hand down on a side table and dust flew. “We are NOT going to summon him. Damn-it, Sam, don’t you think I’ve considered it?” The anger in John’s face and voice was easy to understand for Sam, but Dean shifted between him and Dad growling. “Dean, I have had enough.” John pointed a finger at him. “I am still your father, whatever shape you are and you will respect that!”

Sam was going to tell Dad that it was useless, but then Dean cocked his head and stopped growling. Dad came up to him and his tail smacked into Sam’s legs as Dad patted Dean on the head. Shaking his head at his brother, Sam turned back to the room. “What can we do?”

Bobby spoke up and outlined a plan. Find the demon, trap the demon, then they would see. Depending on when and where they caught him, they might be able to go with option one. If they couldn’t. . .. No one said anything, but it was like being caught between a rock and a hard place; they might have to deal with this thing and just the thought made Sam’s stomach twist.

Missouri and Ellen were spending the night so that they could talk with Dean in the morning, but they would be gone by the time Sam was Sam again. So, he hugged them both, told them thank you and then wandered off to get ready for bed. Bobby stopped him.

“I wanted to tell you good job, back there in the kitchen.”

Sam was confused, until he remembered the odd conversation that he had with Missouri.

Noting his confusion Bobby explained, “With what Missouri said, you could have asked anything of her. If you told her to die, she would have.” Bobby shook his head. “It proves, Sam that you are not evil. Not you, and not your brother. You forgave her Sam. She told you that she was responsible for you being like this, at least partially, and you forgave her.” Standing Bobby watched Sam closely. “Evil doesn’t forgive, Sam. Ever. Go to bed and get some sleep, and take that mutt with you.” Bobby looked down at Dean and pushed Sam toward his room. “Just think about it.”

The next night Sam sat on his bed and read Dean’s note. Dean had talked to Dad, then Bobby, then Ellen and finally Missouri. All of them - Sam had to re-read that part. All of them told Dean, in one way or another, that given that they were soul-mates, it was natural to have those kinds of feelings and that they admired both of them and their willpower. Because of the spells that they had cast on Sam, Ellen and Missouri had both been more than surprised and they were actually kind of worried.

Sam should have been irresistible to Dean. Sam laughed when Dean wrote what he told them. Convincing them that he had been drawn to Sam for a long time, but knowing that it was wrong, that it was something that could hurt Sam had made him not act on it. It hadn’t been easy, but it had been possible. Missouri had said that Dean must have spent most of his life since puberty with a hard-on every time he was around his brother. “You don’t know the half of it,” Dean had answered.

Sam looked for more, but he couldn’t find anything. Checking out what was in the recent documents, Sam saw that Dean had again been reading one of the porn letters he had written. It seemed to be one of Dean’s favorites. Knowing that Dean fantasized about Sam doing those things to him made Sam hard. Knowing that there can be a big difference between ones fantasy’s and what someone actually wanted to do, Sam slipped a note in at the end asking Dean if he really wanted Sam to do these things to him. . .to take him, and possess him; it was nearly a rape scene.

Rubbing his hard cock though his underwear, Sam opened another story, one that he liked to fantasize about. It was one that Dean had written and Sam couldn’t understand why Dean thought all he wrote was crap because for Sam, just knowing that Dean had these thoughts and wrote them for him was enough. So maybe Dean wasn’t as descriptive as Sam was; Sam didn’t care, but no matter what he wrote he seemed to think that Sam was better. This one got Sam so hot. It was about Dean losing control and pushing Sam up against the Impala. Dean slowly strips him, licking and teasing Sam and then he spins him around and starts to tongue Sam’s hole. Sam pushed his underwear down and stroked his cock as he imagined Dean licking into him and then Dean sprawling him inside the car, fucking Sam and wrapping his hand around Sam’s hard cock, jerking him off at the same time. Sam’s hand went faster as he thought of Dean talking dirty to him as he got off inside Dean’s car. Imagining Dean losing control and just start pounding into him, Sam gasped as he came.

Yeah, he decided as he closed the file, that was a good one. Dean lay sprawled across the side of the bed, sleeping away and Sam was glad because he always felt weird jacking-off while Dean watched him. Sam got up and Dean gave a huff, looking at Sam and closed his eyes again. Slipping off to the shower and then getting dressed, Sam felt even more tense about the future, yet oddly relaxed too. It was good knowing that Ellen, Bobby, Missouri, and even Dad understood, or at least tried to understand what was between Dean and him.

Now that he had Dean, to the extent that he did have Dean, Sam knew he would never give him up. Somehow Sam had always known that something was missing from him, but he had never felt that way around Dean. Sam had always chalked it up to Dean loving him. Never being sure what Dad thought of him and Mom dying when he was so young, Dean’s love was the one constant in his life.

Sam gathered Dean and they headed down to breakfast, or dinner, as the case may be. Only Bobby was in the kitchen and when Sam asked where Dad was, he avoided answering. He wouldn’t even look at Sam.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Dad?” Sam asked.

“He’s gone for a few days,” Bobby admitted.

“Gone when we only have a few days? Oh, no,” Sam said as an idea hit him. “He didn’t go after that demon alone. He promised.”

“There was another fire, everyone killed except the baby. Sam, it tore him up. With Ellen and Missouri here, it was already like all anyone had to do was look left and there would be your mom. It brought up a whole lot of memories and then news like this,” Bobby explained.

“It could be a trap. Hell, it probably is a trap and he’s just walking into it?”

“He’s not stupid, Sam.” Bobby sounded exasperated. “He knows it’s a trap, but he’s hoping to turn the tables on it.”

“We were supposed to fight it together,” Sam said. “He said we were better together.” Now Sam sounded like a five year old whining for his daddy so he just shut up for a while.

Taking Dean outside, Sam laughed as he watched Dean play with the shadows that the full moon cast. Then Dean started growling at something and Sam rushed over to him just in time to see him get shot.

“Dean,” Sam yelled. “Bobby! Bobby!” Sam pressed his hands to Dean’s wound.

“Don’t bother,” a black man with a calm voice told Sam. “It’s silver.”

Sam moved his body so that he was between Dean and the man. “Bobby!” Sam yelled again and then he heard someone coming up behind him. Sam glanced quickly and saw that it was Bobby. “He shot Dean, thinks he’s a werewolf.”

“Dean okay, Sam?”

Sam checked and saw that the bleeding in his side had slowed. Sam could even see the bullet. Carefully, he squeezed around Dean’s wound and the bullet popped out. That was the problem with silver, it wasn’t heavy enough to actually kill something that wasn’t ‘allergic’ to it. It had probably just knocked the wind out of Dean and any moment he would be getting up. Sam could already feel him starting to growl.

Putting a hand on the wound and another on Dean’s neck, Sam tried to keep him calm. He was paying attention to Dean and not to Bobby or the stranger, until the man said their father’s name.

“Saw John Winchester at the Roadhouse and I wondered what could bring him there and be killed. Lost me fifty bucks when he walked out of the back, still breathing. Anyway, I nosed around and there was talk of a wolf. So I came down here to take care of the problem; nice of you to keep your dog penned for me by the way.”

“Gordon Walker, yeah I’ve heard of you,” Bobby said, in a cold voice that turned deadly. “You’ve got two minutes before I turn your life into a living hell; get off of my property and don’t come back.”

“It’s dead anyway,” Walker said and looked over at Sam who was still holding pressure against the wound. “Sam Winchester, there’s been talk. Don’t worry, I’ll take you out soon, too.” Turning his back on the both of them he walked away.

“How is he?” Bobby asked.

“Just fine, I’ve been holding him down so that that guy wouldn’t shoot him in the head this time.” As Walker got outside the gates, Sam let Dean up. Shaking off, he let Sam lead him back to the house while Bobby headed for the dog pen. Hearing Rumsfeld take off running for the gate made Sam happy. He would make sure that Walker didn’t come back.

“Thank you,” Sam said as Bobby walked in the door.

“You boy’s are going to have to leave,” Bobby said. “Gordon’s got friends, if you want to call them that. . .”

“Who is Gordon Walker?” Sam asked.

“He’s a crazy son of bitch. His family was killed by vampires and he’s been a hunter ever since. Must have branched out if he’s hunting werewolves.”

“It was more like he was hunting us,” Sam said quietly.

“Yeah, that’s why you gotta leave. Your Dad was headed for Illinois, a town called Colchester. It’s on highway 136 - if you leave now, you might make it by morning.” Bobby started throwing supplies in a bag.

“You coming with us?” Sam asked, confused.

“No this is for you both. Now hurry up!” Bobby told him, and Sam took off for the bedroom. He threw all their clothes into the duffel that he had put on the bed. Making sure his collar and leash were handy, he put his laptop away and, without a backwards glance, he headed for the kitchen.

Bobby handed him the bag he had made up, giving Sam a long look. “This might also be a trap; they might want you to lead them straight to John.”

Sam had actually considered that. “I know some back ways. If we’re followed, I’ll lose them.”

“I always knew you had a good head on your shoulders.” Bobby patted Sam on the back as they walked to the Impala. Sam got Dean into the car; he wasn’t even bleeding from his wound anymore, but he was exhausted and he flopped in the front seat, his feet moving out of the way for Sam. “Take care of him. Hell, tell him to take care of you, too. Find your Dad. Time is running out.”

Like Sam needed a reminder.

Sam never noticed anyone following them. Pulling off the highway, he found a small motel and paid for a room. There was still an hour until sunrise, but Sam wanted them to be in a safe place to change and he needed to write to Dean so that he understood what was happening.

There was no light other than that of the laptop screen as Sam typed. Finishing, he moved to the bed and Dean lifted his head to look at him. Only a few minutes before the change and Sam stripped, laying out his collar and folding his clothes. Sam lay down and ran his hand over Dean’s wound.

Gordon Walker scared him. Not because he apparently thought that Dean was a werewolf, but because of the way he sounded like he knew something about Sam. Sam got up quickly and added a few things to his note, making damn sure that Dean knew that they may have been tailed, as well as the very real possibility that they were walking into a trap. He barely made it back to the bed before the change overtook him.

 **  
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**

Dean read Sam’s note and then re-read it. They were going after Dad, who may or may not have walked into a trap and they may or may not have been followed by the crazy hunter who had shot him. Shot him! With a silver bullet that didn’t do any damage to speak of but still. . .. Looking over at Sam curled on the bed and watching him, Dean shook his head. This was crazy - everything was ten times harder.

Days passed and Dean grew more and more frantic; they couldn’t find Dad. Asking around the town he’d been in had got them a couple of leads that didn’t pan out. The eclipse was due and no demon, but what bothered Dean the most was no sign of Dad.

Just then his phone rang and Dean jumped. His father, he saw with relief. “Dad?”

“Dean, I need you to listen to me. The gun, I need you to bring me the gun.”

“But Dad. . .” John already had the gun; at least, that’s what Dean thought.

“Just do it,” Dad interrupted him.

“Fine, where are you?” Dean asked and John gave him directions to a small cabin, not too far from where they were.

It was about twenty minutes to the eclipse; Dean was certain that the easy option of just having the demon look at them both was gone, at least until he walked into the cabin. There was a man standing in a devil’s trap and Dad was sitting in the corner looking angry.

“Keep an eye on the bastard. And don’t listen to what he says,” Dad ordered him as he left. Dean could hear him screaming and cursing outside. He almost asked the demon what he had said to his father, but he didn’t. Dean couldn’t believe it - Sam was here, he was here, the demon was here and all they had to do is get the demon to look at them.

The demon started talking to Dean and Dean tried not to listen, but he was talking about Sam, about his visions and his pain how this was all their mom’s fault and Dean suddenly knew why Dad had to leave. He had been here for hours with this thing, spewing this crap. Outside it slowly grew darker and Dean tried not to get excited, but he was going to get to see Sam- alive and as a person. Even if they didn’t end this here, it would be worth it to see Sam again.

John came back in, apparently calmer and told Dean to strip. Dean wasn’t about to question his dad in front of this thing so he did as he was told. The demon was going on and on about perversion being so bad and wondering if they thought that fucking was going to solve this little problem.

Dean flinched as the demon told him that if he fucked his brother he would be condemning the two of them to Hell. He even described a place that was just for incest, with creatures that would eat the offending body part off a piece at a time, with the person feeling every last little nibble. Apparently, passing out when you were a spirit wasn’t an option.

There was a growing quietness outside as he listened. The birds that had been chittering outside stilled and quieted, and Dean looked at Dad as he brought out the Colt. Dean then looked at Sam, watching for the first time as he changed back.

It didn’t happen like Dean assumed it did after that first painful time. To him it always seemed like he was either a wolf or he was a person - the change happened instantaneously. But it didn’t. It looked like Sam’s coyote body flowed into a kind of Sam mould and then there was Sam. Dean looked at him, his eyes roaming his body. Sam slowly sat up. Dean could see the moment he realized what was happening because he frantically looked around for Dean.

Dean stepped out of the shadows, the eclipse tinting the room in a ghostly blue light. “Sam.” Dean’s voice was filled with love. Sam held his hand out to Dean and Dean helped him up, his fingers entwining with Sam’s. How long they would have stood like that Dean didn’t know, but Dad reminded them why they were here.

Without letting go of Sam’s hand, he turned to face the demon. The thing had a small smirk on its face and was looking at the floor. Dad walked over near the circle and pointed the gun at the thing. “You will look at them or you will die.” Dean’s eyes flicked towards his dad. He wasn’t going to kill it?

It seemed like forever and then, just as Dean heard the birds start to sing outside, the Demon looked at them. He _looked_ at them; Dean’s brain was stuttering over the concept that they had won. Sam turned to Dean and, as sunlight swept across the cabin he wrapped Dean in a huge hug. Dean had forgotten how looming Sam could be.

“Aw now isn’t this touching, John? Our boys hugging,” the Demon said from the trap. “Thanks for the gift.” He waved the Colt around. “Now if you would be so kind….” He motioned down at the trap. The boys watched with horror as their father scraped a break in the trap and then the demon was gone. John was panting like he had just run for miles and Sam and Dean stood speechless.

“Dad?” Dean asked, wondering if this really were his father, and John looked up with tears in his eyes. “He wouldn’t take me, just wanted the damn gun.” It was then that Dean figured out what their dad had done. Making a deal with the thing that had killed mom, he had given up their best chance at beating this thing.

John wiped his tears away and looked at the both of them. “Boys, get dressed.”

Sam dove for the duffel, tossing Dean’s clothes at him, and then he started to get dressed. Dean kept Sam in sight all the time. It had been so damn long. But then he stared down at the floor, looking at the devil’s trap and remembering what the demon had said. Dean knew that demons lied, but if the truth would hurt more, they would use it.

Kicking at the chalk line Dean thought about what had happened, like Bobby kept telling him to do. Demons seemed to revel in misery and hopelessness, almost feed off of it. Dad was probably making them very happy right now. Ellen and Missouri had both said that whatever was between him and his brother was healing.

Ellen, Dean flushed remembering the conversation, had quizzed him about sex - heterosexual and homosexual. After she figured out he wasn’t an idiot, she had asked him if he thought it was wrong. The question confused Dean at first, then he got that she was asking about him and Sam. It was complicated, and he told her that. She had nodded and he had tried to explain about denying his feelings for so long that when he finally kissed Sam, it was like a dam burst and he would never be able to shove those feelings away again.

She had kissed his forehead and led him outside into the sunshine. “Love, Dean. That’s what this whole thing is about.” She motioned to Bobby’s property, but Dean got the feeling she was talking about a whole lot more. “ _If we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us._ Bible verse, but it’s true. God is in here,” she said, pushing at Dean’s chest. “Why do you think the demons want souls so badly? Because every time they get one, they take more light out of the world. The goddess blessed you Dean, gave you a love that is so vast that I can’t begin to imagine it.”

“I believe that you will beat this. One day you will stand again next to your brother. You have the ability to heal his soul Dean, if you just let yourself love.”

Touching his arm, Sam woke Dean from his reverie. “We should go,” Sam said, wrapping his warm fingers around Dean’s forearm. “Dad?” Sam asked and Dean looked at his father. Dean walked over to where he was standing, his father’s eyes locked on the devil’s trap.

“Thank you,” Dean said quietly, understanding what Dad had given up for him, for Sam, for the both of them.

John finally looked up and saw both of his boys, healthy and alive. He seemed to shake off his sad feelings and actually started to laugh. Sam and Dean exchanged a look and then looked back at their dad, who was clearly losing it. He laughed more and more until tears were streaming down his face. Dean was starting to get worried - was he really cracking up?

“Dad, you did just give the Colt to the demon that killed Mom and Jess and then you let him go, right?”

Nodding, John tried to get his laughter under control, but then he started giggling as Dean crouched in front of him. Dad giggling scared the crap out of him. He made a motion like he wanted Dean to hold out his hand. Dean complied and Dad dropped five bullets into his hand. That was when he got it and, holding the bullets out to Sam, he started to laugh.

It wasn’t only the gun that was special, it was the bullets. While Dad may have handed over his best chance at killing the demon, he had also rendered it useless. It might have just been because everyone was releasing tension or something, but they all laughed, their stomachs hurting and tears rolling. Every time they stopped, one of them would start up again. Finally, Dad had to go outside and Dean was left alone with Sam.

The laughter died, but Dean kept smiling at Sam. Moving closer, Sam said, “I think I would like to kiss you again.” Dean stilled and then nodded slightly. Sam leaned towards him and Dean automatically tilted his head so their lips could meet.

“If you boys are. . .” John said as he stood in the doorway. Dean figured later that it was one thing to know that your children wanted to be together and another thing to actually seeing them. Dad made a strangled sort of noise and both of them pulled back before their lips could touch. Dean was finding it increasingly hard to stop touching Sam.

Dean stood and helped Sam up. “We’re ready. Where to?”

“Bobby’s, to do some more research.” Both Sam and Dean nodded and Dad added, “I know that this thing is like a. . .” he searched for an analogy before continuing, “a loadstone and a magnet, pulling towards one another, and the longer you fight it the stronger it gets, but please wait ‘till we get to a motel. I’m sure you don’t want to. . .not here.”

Sam took a step away from Dean and Dean found that it physically hurt to lose contact with Sam. The look that Sam shot him made him believe that he felt the same way. Dad nodded and Sam and Dean walked out to the Impala.

“Dad, the first motel, please.” Dean asked and the pain in his voice must have got to Dad.

“The first one, Dean.”

They got on the road and Dean found his hand continually sliding toward Sam; then Sam sprawled and Dean caught his breath. It was hard to describe everything he was feeling, yet seeing Sam again where he was supposed to be meant that everything was right. Following Dad, Dean concentrated on not touching Sam. He made a whining noise when Sam’s arm rested across the back of the seat. Dean was so hard he felt like he could pound nails with his cock. Smelling Sam just made it worse.

He rolled down his window and drove. Pulling into a parking lot, Dean sat until Dad came over. He seemed to understand what was wrong. Dean could almost not walk, and Sam wasn’t in any better shape.

“Let me get rooms for us.” Dad hurried inside and quickly returned, handing Dean a room key. Carefully not touching, Sam and Dean barely made it to their room. Dean had just enough time to register that there was one bed when Sam jumped him.

There was something Dean tried to remember as Sam kissed up his neck while pulling at Dean’s t-shirt. “Salt,” he gasped out and Sam growled with frustration. They managed somehow to salt the door and the windows, all the while touching and stripping out of their clothes.

“Dean.” His name slipped past Sam’s lips and Dean groaned. They fell on the bed, hard cocks rubbing as Sam moved on top of Dean. “I need. . .oh God, Dean, I need to be in you.”

Dean felt around on the bed for the duffel that had got tossed on it. Fishing out the lube, he slapped it in Sam’s hand and Sam gave him the biggest grin. He was still kind of bemused that he was with Sam. Then Sam was pushing his legs up and sliding first one, then two and three fingers into him. He was working as fast as he could, trying not to hurt Dean, but finally Dean grabbed Sam’s hand. “Enough…now.”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice, and slicking up his cock he had it pressed against Dean’s hole. He looked Dean in the eye as he pressed in. Dean let his eyes drift shut with the pleasure that was rolling over his body and Sam stopped.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, Sam, it feels fucking amazing - just do it,” Dean commanded.

Pressing all the way into Dean, Sam stopped. Leaning down, he kissed Dean and Dean was amazed; it was as if he was both Sam and himself. Then Sam let himself go and started to fuck Dean harder and harder, and Dean came just as Sam pushed in for a final time. He felt Sam slip out of him and the sensation left Dean groaning.

Sam looked at him carefully. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m good,” Dean said as he stretched out beside Sam, his body tingling everywhere they touched. “You?”

The grin Sam gave him was all he needed. Sam rolled to his side and ran his hands across Dean’s chest and through the come that was cooling on his belly, bringing his fingers up to his mouth as Dean watched. He could feel his cock stir again. It had been so long and Sam, with his eyes and that mouth, made his cock grow hard again as he looked at him. Sam didn’t seem surprised, but he did surprise Dean when he moved and started kissing down his chest and belly, pausing to lap up the come; he stopped just short of Dean’s cock.

“Sam,” Dean whined and Sam took pity on him. While Dean wrapped his fingers in Sam’s messy hair, Sam sucked his cock. Not expertly, by any means, but enthusiastically and he only scraped Dean’s cock with his teeth once. Finally, Dean had enough. He pulled Sam up to him and kissed him, both of them moaning. Rolling over, he pinned Sam to the bed.

“My turn,” Dean said with a wicked grin. Slapping the lube bottle into Dean’s hand with a smile, Sam seemed to relax. Dean slowly pushed his sensitive cock against Sam’s, watching Sam as he threw his head back. Sitting back, Dean put lube on his left hand and then slid one finger through it. Sliding the finger down Sam’s perineum, he circled Sam’s hole and Sam moaned. Dean was still in a state of disbelief as he pushed his finger inside his brother.

It didn’t seem real; even with his ass sore and leaking Sam’s come, Dean still expected to wake up at any moment. Dean pulled out the first finger and added two as he compared his cock to Sam’s. He hadn’t really got a chance to look earlier. Slicking up his third finger, Dean pressed them all into Sam as he wrapped his other hand around Sam’s cock. It was thick, long and Dean was surprised it had fit in his ass.

Sam moaned and Dean’s eyes flicked up to Sam’s face. “Please, Dean. . . _please_ ,” he pleaded. Dean poured more lube into his hand and slicked up his cock. This was Sam’s first time and, no matter what, Dean didn’t want to hurt him. First rule of anal sex was lube - lube and then some more lube. The second was, it wasn’t supposed to hurt. Dean had stretched Sam as much as he could with his fingers before he put the head of his cock against Sam’s tight hole.

Pushing in was horrible and wonderful at the same time. Dean went very slowly when what he wanted was just to start moving, fast and hard; he wanted to fuck Sam, but he managed to restrain himself. Even when Sam begged him to start fucking him, Dean still pushed in slowly until he was completely inside. Sam pulled him down for a kiss and Dean let himself begin to move. He could feel the absence that was a part of Sammy and he could feel something in him trying to fix it.

Dean moved faster and faster, pushing in harder and harder as if he were trying to drive Sam through the mattress. The entire time he felt something leaving him and then coming back, and as he neared completion the feeling grew stronger and stronger. Trying to distract himself from it, he told Sam to jack-off while he fucked him.

Sam complied quickly, wrapping his hand around his cock, and Dean moved his hips trying to brush his cock against Sam’s prostate. He wasn’t sure if he did get it because Sam was coming, clenching tightly around his cock, and Dean felt himself come. The last of his strength drained out of him with his semen. Collapsing on the bed next to Sam, Dean could see Sam’s eyes fluttering shut. Dean managed to pull a blanket over the two of them before falling asleep.

Dean woke just before the sun tipped over the horizon and he could see the fear in Sam’s face. Sam lay beside Dean and watched at the room slowly grew lighter. Dean could tell that even with everything that had happened, he still couldn’t believe that he wasn’t going to change again. Dean pulled Sam to him and they rested their foreheads together, their breath mingling between them before Dean leaned in and kissed Sam.

Compared to the other kisses they had shared, this one was different. Moving his lips across Sam’s, Dean licked at them and then sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He let go as Sam moaned and tried to roll his hips against Dean; he let his tongue seek out Sam’s. Lips parted and came back together as their tongues danced with one another, but it was calming rather than exciting. Finally, Dean broke the kiss and smiled down into Sam’s face.

Watching Sam as he realized that the sun was shining through the window on the both of them was heartbreaking. It was then that Dean realized that if this whole thing was like a dream to him, it was the same for Sam. Dean kissed Sam again, trying to reassure him that he wasn’t going anywhere.

 **  
**

**Epilogue**

 **  
**

Sam watched as the sky got lighter and lighter; he felt different, but if someone were to ask him how he wouldn’t be able to tell them. Some part of him was still certain that this was just a reprieve and everything would go back to the way it was. Dean leaned in and kissed him, distracting him until the sunshine broke over the top of the windowsill and shone on both of them.

Looking at Dean in disbelief and wonder, it finally got through to Sam that it was over. Dean leaned in and kissed him, and Sam felt a love so overwhelming it took his breath away. Sam was just really getting into the kiss when he doubled over in pain. His visions were back and it was almost as if because he didn’t have them for so many months that it was even more painful.

He got flashes of a ghost town and people being killed off one by one. Each death caused Sam to have a convulsion, until there was just one guy left. Then he was thrown out of the vision. Coming around, Sam realized that he was being held by his father who was talking to Dean.

“Was it always like this?” Dad asked.

Sam could see Dean shake his head. Noticing that Sam was awake and aware, Dean moved closer. “You okay, Sam?”

Sam was as okay as he could be considering he was naked, being held by his father on a bed that just a while before he had been having sex with his brother. Sam just nodded and sat up as Dean handed him a shirt.

“What did you see, Sam?” John asked as he got off the bed, standing awkwardly as he looked out the window and then back at Sam after he got dressed.

Sam remembered his vision and was off the bed sprinting for the bathroom. Throwing up only made his head hurt worse, but he couldn’t stop his stomach from heaving. Dean was there as it finally stopped, handing him a washcloth and a cup of water. Helping Sam up, Dean kept a hand on his back as they went back into the other room.

“Death, Dad. I saw people like me. . .” Sam swallowed as he felt bile clawing at his throat. “The demon had made others like me and now they’re all dead. They were so scared.” Sam was shaking and Dean reached out and held his hand. Sam focused on their fingers, and it helped to calm him. “One of them spoke to me before she died. It was like she knew I was there. She said to look for the signs, that they would lead me.”

“You good, Sam? Can you travel?” Sam nodded at his father and then in a flurry of movement he and Dean got everything together; it took just a few moments. Dean had noticed Sam rubbing his head and got him some painkillers out of the first-aid kit. Swallowing them with some more water, Sam smiled gratefully at his brother as they headed out to the Impala.

“Let’s get back to Bobby’s, son,” John said and Dean nodded. After stopping for gas they headed out of town.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Sam examined Dean. He looked good, his hair longer than Sam remembered, but Sam was sure his was, too. Sliding his hand along the back of the seat, Sam felt better when he touched the back of Dean’s neck, letting his fingers play in the short hairs there. Relaxing as he touched his brother, Sam sighed and watched the scenery flow past. They drove in silence and Sam was content to leave it. Hours later, Dean and Dad pulled into Bobby’s.

Bobby and Rumsfeld came outside to greet them. He had a huge grin on his face as he saw Sam and Dean both get out of the car. John slammed his door and they all turned to look at his grim face.

“Bobby, I need the best research you’ve got. Something big is happening and right now I don’t have a clue what.”

“Okay, John. . .everyone just come inside.” Bobby got everyone a beer and they all sat down. Sam and Dean drank theirs down, but Dad sipped at his, giving Bobby a look over the top of the can.

“Spiked the beer with holy water – nice, Bobby,” John said.

“What was this about research?” Bobby asked after they had all passed his test.

“Sammy’s visions are back and it’s not good,” John said.

Bobby glanced at Sam and Sam nodded. “Something big is going down. The demon has picked a leader for his army.” Sam’s mind strayed away from the details and he must have had a look on his face because Dean reached out and took his hand.

“Army of what?” Bobby asked.

“And another thing,” Sam continued as if he hadn’t heard Bobby, “the demon has the gun.”

Bobby turned his disbelieving eyes to John. “You gave them the Colt?”

John nodded and then said, “I would give anything for my sons.”

“You gave them the Colt?” Bobby asked again, like he didn’t believe John. “You didn’t kill the demon and you gave him the god-damn Colt?” Looking like he was going to explode, Bobby stood up and Sam heard Rumsfeld barking outside. Everyone headed for the back door; it was Ellen. She tore into the yard and was out of the car almost before it stopped.

She had her mouth open to yell when she saw Sam and Dean standing side by side and a huge grin split her face. “Boys, it’s good to see both of you. So the problem is taken care of?” She looked at John and whatever she saw on his face caused her smile to falter, then drop. “You didn’t.” It was a flat statement and nobody refuted it.

Bobby again ushered everyone in his house, just laying out a shot of holy water for Ellen; they all watched as she tilted the glass back and drank it down. “Now that that’s out of the way, I’ve got news from Ash.” Ellen choked up and Dad who was closest stepped up to her. Explaining that she had run to town, she had returned to the Roadhouse to find it burned down. As she shifted through the ashes she was glad Jo was off with some hunter, even though when she’d left, Ellen had thrown a fit.

Describing what she saw in a detached voice, Ellen continued. “Ash….” She swallowed and Bobby got her a beer; giving a small smile of thanks she drank it down. “Ash had some things in the safe; this was one of them.”

Flipping a map out onto Bobby’s kitchen table, they examined it. “Where is this?” Bobby asked.

“Wyoming,” she said, and Bobby made a noise. They all looked at him as he left the room. Returning with his notebook, he set it down. “Demonic activity all around this one area, but nothing inside it. It looks like they’re gathering.” He pointed to an area on Ellen’s map. “Around here.”

Sam examined the map carefully. “What are these?” he asked.

Bobby looked down at the five circles that were drawn on the map. Getting a different map, Bobby quickly figured out that the spots were five churches that Samuel Colt had built with railroads connecting each of them. Sam got a pencil and drew lines on Ellen’s map, connecting the circles.

“It’s a devil’s trap,” he said quietly. “What’s it keeping in?”

“I don’t know, but we should just be thankful that there are no humans on the demon’s side or else they could break it.” Sam could see Bobby’s face and he knew the moment he remembered what Sam had said earlier, about the Demon picking someone.

Sam’s eyes rose from the paper with a look of horror. “But there is….” Sam explained to Ellen about how the demon had pulled the kids that were like him to this town and one by one they had all died, until there was just one left. “Jake,” Sam breathed.

“Then what are we waiting for, an invitation? Let’s get going.” Ellen got them moving; she jumped in Bobby’s truck with him and Dad came with Sam and Dean. They all headed out, Bobby in the lead and Dean right behind him.

Getting there around dusk, they drove toward the center of the trap and found a cemetery. Getting armed, they ranged out around the site while they waited for Jake to show up. Confronting the man as he approached a crypt at the dead center of the cemetery, they weren’t surprised when he turned. When he laughed at them all pointing their guns at him, that’s when they were surprised.

“Hey, lady,” he said, looking at Ellen, “put that gun to your head.”

They watched in horror as Ellen did just that.

“Put down your guns or I tell her to pull the trigger.”

To a man they threw their guns down. Jake turned and shoved the Colt into a hole in the crypt; they watched as it spun, turned, and stopped with a thump that was loud in the quiet stillness of the graveyard. The screeching of unseen hinges that had never known oil heralded its opening, the doors flew open and things came pouring out.

Sam was mesmerized for a moment by the sight in front of him. When he refocused on his surroundings, he saw Dean pointing a gun at him. Throwing himself to the side as Dean pulled the trigger, Sam wondered if Jake was making Dean do this. It was then he saw Jake fall down, shot by Dean. He had a large hunting knife in his hands and he stared with disbelief at Dean as he slumped over.

“What is that?” Dean yelled to make himself be heard over the screaming that was coming from the open doors, after he made sure Jake was dead.

“It’s a devil’s gate, a damned door to hell,” Ellen shouted back and they all moved to push on the door. Everyone except John; he grabbed the Colt from where it had fallen and loaded it while Sam yelled at him to help them.

There was a sudden stillness in the air and then the demon was there. The one that had killed mom and Jess, and had completely fucked up his life. Watching as Dad was slammed against some headstones, Sam decided he’d had it. Even if he died, it would be worth it to take this bastard out.

Sam surprised the demon as it got ready to kill Dad; it was saying something about Sam, about Mom, but Sam ignored him and just held him for a moment. John retrieved the Colt and held it pointed at the demon.

“Shoot him,” Sam yelled and still his father hesitated.

“I might hit you.”

“Damn-it, Dad! Shoot the fucker!” Sam yelled, and it was with great relief he saw his Dad pull the trigger.

“Sam,” Dean yelled as both Sam and the demon when down.

Ellen and Bobby were yelling as they tried to shut the open gate. Pulling the corpse off of Sam, Dean was frantically pulling at Sam. Opening his eyes, Sam heard Ellen yelling and tried to get up. With Dean helping him, they made it to the open gate and pushed. Then Dad was there and they pushed them closed; he used the gun to lock it up again.

They all leaned against the closed doors, trying to catch their breath. John was the first one to speak. “How many do you think, Bobby?” It was as if they were discussing the weather or something.

Bobby answered in the same tone. “Had to be around three hundred.”

Ellen pushed off of the closed crypt. “It’s closed now. We’ve all got lots of work to do.” They walked in silence back to their cars.

“No matter,” Dad said as he stood outside the Impala, one hand on the roof. “We’ll do it together.”

Sam shared a smile with Dean and they nodded in agreement as they got into the car. No matter what, they would always be together.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank my friend Monica aka lj user monica_catch22 with a few words she inspired me to write this fic. Which was written almost completely in a couple of weeks before the end of season three... which is why it is so AU. I was close with a couple of things which made me happy. Also I want to thank Zoe and Anne for the betas.. any and all remaining mistakes are mine. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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